Hate's Sweet Seduction
by Kiara5542
Summary: This is the rewritten version of Hate's Sweet Seduction, previously rated NC-17. "Lemony chapters" will be rewritten so that I can still have my story on here ^_^
1. Platform Nine and Three Quarters Hermio...

A/N: This was posted once before, under NC-17, but as they have now taken down that category, I have chosen to rewrite HSS for this category. The basic plot is there, but certain *scenes* have been toned down. ^^;; I hope that all of you who enjoyed it before will once again enjoy reading it, and all new readers, I welcome you with open arms!!! The NC-17 version can still be found on my website, which is listed on my user lookup. Please read, review and enjoy!   
  
Characters: Hermione/Draco  
  
Rating: R for lemony goodness ^^;; (not too graphic though :P)   
  
**DISCLAIMER** I do not own any of the characters in Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts. I only own any characters that I may introduce myself, and the plot that I have written.   
  
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Chapter I - Hate and Hormones Don't Mix...Do They?  
  
Hermione Granger smiled as she pushed through the barrier that seperated the Muggle World from Platform 9 and 3/4. She quickly moved out of the way so that she wasn't blocking anyone who might be coming through behind her, then she just stood still, taking in the sights, sounds and smells around her. Students milled around, standing together in clumps talking to one another, others exchanging last minute farewells to their families. Cats of all shapes, sizes and colours sinuously twined themselves through the forest of ankles, a few spitting and hissing at the few toads that were hopping around aimlessly. Overhead a few loose owls enjoyed a last minute flight before being put back in their cages. Hermione could see a few frightened, lost looking faces, and smiled to herself. First years, no doubt, she thought to herself. A shout from behind her made her turn around in surprise.  
  
  
"Hermione!!" Ron Weasley, followed by the rest of the Weasley family, was coming towards her from further down the platform. Fred, George and Ginny were just a few steps behind him.   
  
"Ron!" she greeted him happily, allowing him to pull her into a hug as he reached her.   
  
As she pulled back, she looked him up and down, and smiled to herself. She knew without even thinking twice about it that more than a few girls were going to be taking quite a close look at Ron Weasley that year. As usual, his red hair was tousled, and one particular peice of hair kept falling over his forehead in a manner that some would find appealing. His bright blue eyes stood out in vivid contrast to the tan he had developed over the summer, and combined with his broad grin and lanky body that was showing signs of having developed some muscles, it added up to a appealing combination.   
  
Not that she'd ever be attracted to Ron, she thought to herself. Although Lavendar and Parvati seemed to think that she and the youngest Weasley boy would make the most perfect couple, she could never date one of her friends. It would just be too...weird. Besides, she and Harry and Ron were like, the Group of Three or something. Gryffindor's Golden Trio, she had heard someone call them, once. Not that she liked that particular name, but she had to agree with the thought behind it. She wouldn't ever want the three of them to stop being friends because of a stupid dating experiment.   
  
Although she did hope that she could convince Ron and Harry to stop being so protective of her this year. She knew that the thought that she might have any interest outside their little group quite escaped the two of them, the way they had treated Viktor Krum had certainly proved that. And then there was the whole thing with Ron and the Yule Ball two years ago... It had been quite obvious from the first that neither Harry nor Ron had actually considered that she might actually be interested in going - or that she would be interested in going with someone outside of them. She still could remember the look on their faces when she had shown up at the Ball - it had been priceless. It was like they had finally woken up and realized that their brainy friend who they had always taken for granted, was actually a girl.   
  
Well they'd better get used to it, she thought to herself. She had decided that she was perfectly capable of keeping up her studies AND having a little bit of fun. After all, she always did extremely well in her classes. The way she figured, if she cut out some of the extra reading and research that she did outside of her schoolwork, she'd have plenty of time to actually have a little fun. She knew that that would probably shock Harry and Ron. And the other girls too, she mused. A smile curved her lips. Not that she was going to go and act like they did, all giggly and dreamy over some cute boy. How they let themselves get so affected by their hormones was beyond her, she thought with disgust.   
  
It was just as that thought went through her head that she turned and found herself in the very grips of the hormones she was scorning. A few feet away from her was Draco Malfoy. But this was an extremely different than the blond haired snobby jerk that she remembered, Hermione thought, her eyes widening as she looked him up and down. This Draco Malfoy had put on a few inches over the summer, and by the looks of it, his father had put him to work - muscles that she didn't remember seeing the year before were now visible. Under the sweater he was wearing his shoulders looked strong and broad. As she watched, he crossed his arms across his chest as he glared around the platform. When, she thought to herself, had he gotten so damn attractive? His blonde hair wasn't slicked back anymore, it fell free across his forehead, and underneath the hair was a pair of vivid blue eyes. Added to the whole affect was the lazy, mocking grin that she remembered so well.   
  
"Hermione, dear, how are you?"  
  
Hermione shook herself abruptly as the voice of Ron's mother reached her. What was she doing, staring at Draco Malfoy? He was only her deadly enemy. Even as she watched, he stuck his foot out, tripping a small first year student, sending him sprawling on the hard cobblestone of the platform. An older student, obviously related, as she had the same curly black hair that the smaller student had, rushed over to help the boy up. She glared at Draco, who just smirked at her and then turned back to Crabbe and Goyle, the dim-witted pair that followed Malfoy around like lost puppies. Not that they even had as much intelligence as a puppy, Hermione thought to herself.   
  
She turned back to face Mrs Weasley, who was beaming at her. As the older woman pulled her into a friendly hug, she determinedly pushed all thoughts of Draco Malfoy out of her mind. But as they walked away down towards where the Weasleys had left all their carts, filled with luggage and other belongings, she couldn't help but look over her shoulder. Her eyes met Draco's bright blue ones, and for a moment they stared at each other. Then his lips, which looked very nice indeed, Hermione absently thought before mentally slapping herself, curved into his famous mocking grin, and he winked at her. Hermione flushed, wondering just what her Slytherin enemy meant by that, then turned resolutely away. Attractive or not, Draco Malfoy was a cruel person, and she didn't want to have anything to do with him.   
  
At least...thats what she kept telling herself. 


	2. Platform Nine and Three Quarters Draco

Characters: Hermione/Draco  
  
Rating: R for lemony goodness! (toned down, of course)   
  
**DISCLAIMER** I do not own any of the characters in Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, etc etc. I only own the plot.   
  
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Chapter II   
  
Draco Malfoy groaned as he stepped through the barrier onto Platform 9 and 3/4 and looked around him. As usual, it was noisy and crowded - two things that he hated. Being crammed in there with all those other people - who knew how many mudbloods were standing close to him. Him, a Malfoy! He frowned and looked behind him for Crabbe and Goyle. They'd probably bounced off of the barrier on the first try, he thought to himself. Lord knows they were slow enough. Yes, you were supposed to ease through the barrier, but that didn't mean you had to go at a turtle's pace. The two finally appeared, muttering something about dumb Muggles looking at them. Draco rolled his eyes. They were probably looking at you because of your stupidity, he thought to himself.   
  
The three of them continued looking around the platform, letting the house elves that had come through with them scamper about, pulling their trunks onto the train. Draco didn't believe in doing any more work than possible, and since his father had sent the elves through with him, why shouldn't he make use of them? One of the elves, particularily tiny and dressed in ragged clothes that were far to big for her, tugged in vain at one of the trunks, her little face screwed up with this effort. Draco watched in amusement. Granger would flip if she saw this, he idly thought to himself, smirking as he remembered her feeble attempts to free the Hogwarts elves when they had been in 4th year. Stupid Mudblood, he thought, shaking his head.   
  
"Hey Draco," Crabbe said.  
  
"What?" Draco snapped, without even bothering to look at the other boy, instead preferring to continue watching the small house elf, who was now muttering to herself feverishly.  
  
"Longbottom's lost that toad of his again, wanna go squish it?"   
  
Draco paused for a moment before slowly looking over at Crabbe. Goyle was standing right beside him, and both of them had pathetically eager looks on their dim faces.   
  
"I bet it'd be fun to step on," Goyle said, a look of glee and anticipation on his face.  
  
Draco shook his head in disgust. "It escapes me how the two of you have made it this far," he said, glaring at the two of them. "You have wands and magic, why the hell would you want to STEP on Longbottom's toad? Can't you think of anything more inventive?"  
  
The blank looks that they had assured him that no, they could not. He gave a sigh of frustration, and turned his head to see if he could spot the bumbling Gryffindor student. He scanned the crowd impatiently, finally catching sight of the other boy standing with his grandmother. He spotted the object of the Crabbe and Goyle's excitement in Longbottom's hands and was about to turn and point this out to the two, when something caught his attention. Out of the corner of his eye he had seen something unusual... He looked in that direction, ignoring Crabbe and Goyle, who had now realized that Neville had his toad back and were asking him to think of something to do for them.   
  
He at once spotted the Weasleys - it wasn't easy to miss the six of them, what with their flaming red hair. They were clustered around someone who he couldn't quite see, all of them chattering excitedly. Potter, no doubt, he thought to himself with disgust. He continued watching idly, curious to see if his nemesis had changed much over the summer. He arched his brow as he saw Ron Weasley envelop the person in a hug. Were the two keeping something from everyone else? He chuckled to himself. How great would that be, he thought. Harry Potter, everyone's pet, "The Boy Who Lived" - gay? Priceless. Then Ron stepped back and for the first time Draco could see who had the Weasleys had greeted so enthusiastically, and his eyes widened with surprise.  
  
It can't be! He thought. But who else would be pushing a cart full of so many textbooks? It must be Hermione Granger, the very Mudblood that had caused him so many problems the previous four years. But he didn't remember Granger looking like this - like she had just stepped off the cover of one of those magazines that the muggles liked to read so much. She hadn't yet put on her school robes, and from the positon that Draco was in, he could see her clearly. She was wearing the same skirt that all the girls in Hogwarts wore, but underneath the skirt stretched a pair of slim legs that seemed to go on for miles. As he let his gaze move upwards, he saw that she seemed to have developed curves in all the right places over the summer. Her hair was sleek and shiny, falling about her face in flattering waves, not big and bushy as he remembered. She smiled at something that Ron said to her, and he saw that her teeth, which he remembered as being overly large for her rather petite face, appeared to be quite normal, although very white.  
  
Get a grip, Malfoy, Draco thought to himself, coming out of it with a snap. What was he doing, staring at Granger? Sure, she might actually pass as a female now, but that didn't mean that she warranted staring at. His teeth ground as he remembered the times that she had humiliated him - the time she had slapped him, or the numerous times that she had proved that she knew much more about certain areas of magic than he, a pureblood and a Malfoy, would probably ever know. He hated her with a passion, and that hadn't changed.   
  
So why was he imagining just what might lie beneath that white blouse of hers? Or what those long legs of hers would be leading to? He grimaced as he caught himself doing it again. He used a small first year student passing nearby as a distraction, sticking out his foot skillfully, just in time to send the much smaller boy plummeting to the floor. He chuckled to himself, and beside him Crabbe and Goyle also broke into laughter, enjoying the look on the boy's face. A girl who must be his sister came hurrying over to help the object of their amusement up, darting an angry glance at Draco as she did so. Draco just laughed harder.   
  
The prickle on the back of his neck told him that someone was watching him, and he looked up to see none other than Granger herself staring at him as she walked away with the Weasley family. She looked quite disgusted, no doubt because of his treatment of the younger student. For a moment he let himself enjoy the sight of the way she moved beneath that short skirt of hers, then allowed their gazes to meet. Just to throw the Mudblood, he smiled lazily at her, then winked, and was rewarded when she flushed. Throwing him an indignant look, she turned away, tossing her hair as he did so.  
  
Well well, Draco thought to himself. It looked as though the year wasn't going to be as boring as he thought. At least he'd have the satisfaction of staring at her through Potions class. In fact, he thought with a broad grin, that would probably make her angrier than anything he could ever say or do could. Hermione Granger was NOT the type of girl to enjoyed being leered at. He chuckled to himself.  
  
Yes indeed - it looked like this year was going to be verrrrry interesting. 


	3. Encounters on Hogwarts Express

Characters: Hermione/Draco  
  
Rating: R (for toned down lemony goodness ^^;;)  
  
**DISCLAIMER** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other characters. Nor do I own Hogwarts, etc etc. The only thing I own is this plot.   
  
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Chapter III  
  
Hermione didn't see Draco again until she was on the Hogwarts Express. She and the Weasleys found Harry a few moments before the train was due to leave. They had actually been starting to get a bit worried, for they knew that the Dursleys, Harry's horrible relatives, had never approved of his schooling in the 5 years that Harry had been attending Hogwarts. Even though Harry was now entering his sixth year at the school, they didn't really expect his aunt and uncle to have changed at all. They had been pondering on whether or not they should send the Knight Bus after their friend, when Ginny had spotted him hurrying towards them down the platform.  
  
"Figures that Ginny would spot 'im", Fred said, teasing his little sister. Although the Weasley twins had graduated the year before and were now in the process of setting up a joke shop, much to Mrs. Weasley's dismay, they had come along to see their two younger siblings off. Hermione glanced at her younger friend, wondering if the youngest Weasley had ever gotten over her attraction for Harry.   
  
Ginny flushed, but didn't have time to reply before Harry arrived on the scene. He grinned at the Weasleys and at Hermione as Mrs. Weasley fussed over him, bearing it all with patience. He was quite tanned, and Ron's mother clucked over this, at which he explained that the Dursleys had kept him busy doing repairs and yard work for much of the summer, after he had come home from visiting the Weasleys. Hermione stifled a laugh as she noticed quite a few of the girls on the platform casting admiring glances at Ron and Harry. She had a feeling that her two best friends were going to have quite an interesting year. Just for the fun of it, she linked her arms through theirs as they headed down the platform to board the train, giggling to herself as she felt more than one jealous gaze piercing her.   
  
Once on the train they quickly found a compartment and made themselves comfortable. All three of them were full of questions for each other as to what had occurred when they were seperated for the summer. Hermione and Ron listened with sympathy to Harry as he related his experience of another summer with the Dursley's, but burst out laughing with Harry when he related the story of how he had slipped a small charm into Dudley's food, making anything that his obnoxious cousin ate taste like lemons and vinegar. Hermione and Ron were laughing particularily loudly as Harry screwed up his face to immitate the way "wee Duddy" had looked when he took a bite of his hamburger, when a noise at the door made them look up.  
  
"If it isn't Potty, Weasel and the Mudblood," Draco sneered as he leaned against the doorframe. Arrogance dripped from every word.   
  
"And if it isn't ol' Ferret-Face," Ron replied, and Harry chuckled at this referral to a spell that their old friend, Mad-Eye Moody, had placed on the Slytherin student 2 years ago.   
  
Normally Hermione would have laughed, but she was too busy trying to keep her eyes off of Malfoy. He was now dressed in his school robes, which were forest green, with gold trim along the cuffs and neckline. His blonde hair and blue eyes stood out in sharp contrast to them. Damn, Hermione thought to herself, although she normally did not use the swear words that she had heard muggles use throughout much of her life. Was Malfoy going to look this good all year? Green normally was not a colour that she found attractive on others, but somehow Malfoy managed to pull it off. As all this was running through her head she was distinctly aware that Draco's eyes were still resting on her.   
  
Apparently Ron and Harry had noticed this as well, for Ron's tone grew more menacing as he spoke to Malfoy again. "Got nothing better to do than stare, Malfoy?" he asked.  
  
"Not when what I'm staring at looks as good as Granger, here," Draco said.   
  
Hermione gasped as she looked up in surprise and saw the lust on Draco's face. He let his gaze rake over her, taking his time about it and making it distinctly clear that he liked what he saw. She felt a warmth rise in her cheeks and her stomach tightened under the intensity of his gaze. Beside her, Ron made an indistinct sound as he lunged at his enemy.   
  
"Ron, no!" she cried, catching hold of his arm.   
  
"I'm not going to sit here and let him stare at you like some piece of meat, Hermione!" Ron said angrily. Underneath her fingers she could feel the coiled tension in his muscles, and knew that only her touch was holding him back. Meanwhile, from the doorway Malfoy observed the scene with a smirk on his face.   
  
"Malfoy, what are you doing here?" A new voice was heard, piercing the tension within the compartment. A tall, muscular boy appeared in the doorway of the compartment, scowling at Draco as the Slytherin student turned to face him.   
  
"This is where the Gryffindor's are sitting," the boy continued. "Why are you bothering with them? Leave the goody two shoes to their fun, whatever it may be..."   
  
"Who is this, now?" Ron asked Hermione angrily. He had sat down again beside her at her urging, and was now watching the scene playing out in front of them with a glower.   
  
"Jared Stalton," she replied. "New Head Boy of Slytherin."  
  
"Oh joy," her friend muttered. "Is he here to join Malfoy in the fun?"  
  
Hermione shook her head, for even as he spoke, Jared was grasping Malfoy by the arm, pulling him away from their compartment. Draco glanced at the three of them once more, then with one final sneer he let himself be pulled away. For a moment the compartment was silent. Hermione glanced at her two friends and sighed inwardly. Both looked about ready to explode. Just as she was debating as to what she could say to change the subject, there was a noise at the door again, and she looked up, glad for the distraction.  
  
"We figured that you three would be together," Lavendar said with a giggle.   
  
Hermione saw her friend take in the way she and Ron were sitting close together on the seat, and groaned inwardly when Lavendar's eyes narrowed speculatively. Could her friend be more clueless, she mused. What would she have to say if she knew that just moments ago Hermione had been lusting over none other than Draco Malfoy? She paused before she could any further with that train of thought. What the hell was she doing? One minute she was thinking about how much she hated him - and she did hate him. What he had done to the poor first year student this morning, as well as the way that he had looked at her just now, had only made her feelings intensify. But no sooner had that thought run through her head than she was thinking to herself that while Draco had looked good from the front, he sure did look good when he was walking away, too. Robes should be closer fitting, she mused.   
  
"Hermione? Hermione!!" She looked up, startled out of thoughts to see Ron, Harry, Lavendar and Parvati all staring at her. She quickly realized that one of them had asked her a question which she had totally missed.  
  
"We've only been around each other for 5 minutes and already you're ignoring me," Lavendar said with a laugh.   
  
Hermione wrinkled her nose at her friend, glad that for once, Lavendar wasn't curious as to what had distracted her.   
  
"Is what Ron told us true?" Parvati asked curiously. "Was Draco Malfoy really staring at you?"  
  
"Yes," Hermione replied. She frowned. "He looked me up and down, you know, in that way that you always read about in books or see in the Muggle movies."  
  
Lavendar's eyes widened indignantly. "Who does he think he is, looking at you like that?" she asked.   
  
"Well, one thing's for sure," Parvati said with a grin, "He won't find anyone to look at in Slytherin this year. I think Pansy Parkinson is as good as it gets right now."  
  
The friends all looked at each other, then burst into laughter. Lavendar and Parvati started a discussion of how people had changed since first year, and Hermione was able to put Draco out of her mind and join in - for now at least.   
  
The rest of the train ride passed quickly. Draco never returned to pester them, and by the time they arrived at Hogwarts to be greeted by a enthusiastic Hagrid, Hermione was feeling much better. During the sorting and supper she avoided even looking at the Slytherin table, instead immersing herself in the enjoyment of being around her friends again. After a few announcements from the Head Table, she and the others headed back to Gryffindor. They spent the night in the Common Room, catching up on the many stories that needed to be told. When Hermione finally fell into her bed after midnight, the last thought she had before drifting off to sleep was that she was sure that her attraction to Draco Malfoy had been short lived.   
  
The next day found all the students, both new and familiar, rushing to and fro in the halls of Hogwarts on their way to classes. More than one second year or even older students found themselves the chagrined victim of the shifting staircases. Neville, of course, managed to get his foot stuck in one of the trick steps, and had to be rescued by Harry before they could go on to class. Hermione was digusted to find out that their very first class was Potions - a double period with the Slytherins, as usual.   
  
Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were already in the classroom when Hermione, Harry and Ron went in. As Hermione sat down near her friends, she deliberately avoided looking in the direction of the Slytherin student. Lavendar and Parvati did not, however, and Lavendar sucked in her breath as she sat down. Hermione sent her friend a curious glance, to which Lavendar whispered a reply.  
  
"You should have seen the way he was staring at you when you sat down! He looked like he was hoping that you'd drop something so you'd have to bend over and pick it up," Lavender said.   
  
Hermione flushed angrily at these words and almost turned around to glare at Malfoy, but resisted the temptation, knowing full well that the other student would love this kind of response. Not only that, but Snape had entered the classroom just as Lavendar finished relaying this information, and she knew for sure that if she dared to turn then he would find some excuse to take points from Gryffindor. For the rest of her time in the classroom she concentrated on what they were learning, and ignored the prickle on the back of her neck which told her that Malfoy was staring at her.   
  
After class was a different matter, however. At Neville's request she stayed behind. They all had the same classes, but Neville wanted someone with him, and she supposed that it was just as well. Who knew what kind of trouble he could get himself into if he was left to find his way on his own, what with the staircases moving around so much in an effort to confuse the first years. She waited patiently, although it seemed like he was taking forever and a day gathering up his scrolls and textbooks. Truth be told, she had always had a soft spot for the slightly chubby, shy Gryffindor boy, who had attempted to stop she, Ron and Harry during first year, when they had gone off to try to stop the theft of the Philospher's Stone. She had been forced to put a spell on him at the time to prevent him from doing anything, and since then she had always felt slightly guilty.   
  
She was thinking about this as they entered the hallway. Hermione glanced at her witch's watch, which she had set to tell her the times of her classes. The small arrow was a few spaces away from the small H that indicated that they had History of Magic next, with Professor Binn's, Hogwarts one and only ghost teacher. She grimaced and sighed. Even she didn't find the ancient Professor's lectures interesting, and she fully believed the rumours that said that he was even more boring dead than he had been while alive. Just as she and Neville were about to head down the corridor towards class, she heard a cry come from the other direction. She and Nevill glanced at each other, then headed off in the direction that the cry had came from. Some lost first year, no doubt, Hermione thought to herself.   
  
When they rounded the corner, however, they found that yes, indeed, it was a first year. Hermione recognized him as having being sorted into Hufflepuff the night before. But he wasn't lost - Draco Malfoy and his two henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle, had the boy surrounded. Malfoy had his wand and was teasing the student by making his books, which were floating in a neat pile in the air, dance just out of the reach of his grasping hands. Crabbe and Goyle were laughing uproariously at this, while Draco had a smirk plastered over his face.  
  
"Malfoy, leave him alone!" Hermione spat.   
  
His head whipped around and he stared at her for a moment before his mouth twisted into a mocking grin. His wand moved slightly, propelling the stack of books up just out of reach of the student. Hermione noted that the boy was almost in tears, obviously petrified at the thought of being late for class on his first day.  
  
"Malfoy, let him go," she said threateningly. "Can't you at least pick on someone your own size?"  
  
"Like you?" he asked her, raising his eyebrows while his eyes once again performed that slow once over that he had submitted her to on the train. Hermione flushed, for she just reached the bottom of Draco's chin. "Or maybe Longbottom can take me down," he drawled scornfully.   
  
"This boy is 5 years younger than you," she retorted. "Like he's going to have the skills to be able to stop you."  
  
"I could have stopped this when I was his age," he said arrogantly, gesturing with his free hand at the floating pile of books.   
  
"Only because Daddy wanted to make sure his precious baby could bully others," she spat, unbelievably angry at his words. She pulled out her wand. "Now let him go!"  
  
At this Draco lowered his wand. The stack of books dropped to scatter all over the floor. Hermione and Draco both ignored the younger student as he scrambled to gather up his books and other supplies, then ran off down the corridor. Crabbe and Goyle, after looking at their leader and Hermione uncertainly for a second, moved off in the direction the student had went.  
  
"You think that you can take me on?" Draco asked, raising his eybrows in disbelief. He smirked again. "There are some things you can't learn from a book, Granger."  
  
For a moment Hermione stared at his lips, noticing how full they were and how he had a slight cleft in his chin, before she realized that he had noticed her staring. He returned her stare with interest, and even as she met his gaze, he dropped it to rest deliberately on the swell of her breasts beneath her robes.  
  
"Yes," he said softly. "There are some things that you can't learn from books."  
  
She knew without asking that he was no longer talking about spells, and underneath her thick robes she felt her nipples harden under his eyes, and silently she breathed a sigh of relief that he couldn't see the reaction she was having to him. Still, she felt the hairs on her arm prickle as he continued to stare at her intently. How could he stare at her like that when Neville was right there, she thought to herself. She stole a glance at her friend, and found that he wasn't even aware of what Malfoy was doing, he was too busy looking about the corridor fearfully.   
  
"Whats the matter, Malfoy?" she taunted, eager to get that hungry look off of her body. "I thought you'd be anxious to take on a Mudblood!"  
  
At these words his eyes darkened and flashed with anger, and he brought up his wand. Before either of them could do anything, however, a voice interrupted them.  
  
"Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger! What is the meaning of this!" Professor McGonagall was sweeping down on them, fairly bristling with indignation and anger.  
  
"Did we or did we not," she asked sternly, fixing each with her steady gaze, "Make an announcement last night that magic was NOT to be directed at other students, except under direct order from a professor?"  
  
Hermione groaned inside, for she could now clearly remember McGonagall herself making the announcement the night before. Ron had commented on how serious the Transfiguration Professor had looked, and Hermione could see now that the elderly lady was very serious, indeed. She opened her mouth to try and explain, but the Professor cut her off.  
  
"No buts, Miss Granger. This is completely unacceptable. I would have thought that you would know better. Twenty points from Gryffindor!"   
  
Hermione winced. Only one day back and already she had just lost her house 20 house points, she thought disbelievingly.   
  
"And you, Mr Malfoy," McGonagall turned to face the Slytherin student, who was leaning against the stone wall of the hallway and grinning as he watched Hermione's discomfort. "Don't think that you are going to get off so slightly. Twenty points from Slytherin, and I shall speak to Professor Snape about your behaviour. As further punishment," she continued, pinning them both with her gaze, "Both of you shall serve detention every night together for the next two weeks. Maybe that will make the two of you finally get along! Now off to class, both of you!"  
  
Before either Hermione or Draco could speak up, Professor McGonagall swept away down the Hall. For a moment they just stared at each other, then Draco muttered something about "stupid Mudbloods" and stalked off.   
  
"Come on, Hermione!" Neville said anxiously, obviously relieved that McGonagall had seemingly ignored his presence. "If we don't hurry, we'll be late for class and Professor Binns will take even more points off of Gryffindor."  
  
Hermione came out of her shock long enough to head down the corridor with her friend. As she went, her mind repeated the same mantra over and over - 2 weeks of detention with Draco Malfoy...  
  
What exactly was she in for? 


	4. Desire in the Dungeons

Characters: Hermione and Draco  
  
Rating: R for toned down lemony goodness...if ya want the real thing, check out my webby ^_^  
  
**DISCLAIMER** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other characters. Nor do I own Hogwarts, etc etc. I only own this plot.  
  
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Chapter IV - Desire In The Dungeon  
  
Harry and Ron cast curious looks at Hermione and Neville as they arrived in class, flushed and gasping for breath. Luckily for them, Professor Binns was already absorbed in his lecture, and did not notice the two students sneaking in. Both of them tried to catch Hermione's eye, obviously curious as to why she was late, but Hermione ignored them, instead opening up her books and at once beginning to take notes on what the ghostly Professor was saying. They tried a few more times, but after being unsuccessful repeatedly, they gave up.   
  
After class, however, they quickly caught up with her as she walked down the corridor.   
  
"What happened?" Ron asked curiously. "Why were you late for class?"  
  
"We ran into Malfoy," Neville said in discuss, coming up beside them. "He was torturing some poor first year and Hermione got mad enough to pull her wand on him."  
  
"You did?" Harry asked. A grin spread across his face. "I wish that I had been there to see that - probably would have pulled my own on him."  
  
Hermione shook her head. "Then you would have gotten into trouble too," she said with a sigh. "Professor McGonagall caught us..and now I have detention for two weeks, and lost twenty points for Gryffindor."  
  
"Twenty points?" Ron cried. "But you didn't do anything wrong, what were you supposed to do, let Malfoy tease that poor kid?"  
  
"Its because I pulled my wand," Hermione explained. "They just told us last night that magic isn't supposed to be directed towards other students, thats why McGonagall was so angry. But that's not the worst of it," she sighed. "I have to serve my detention WITH Malfoy."  
  
At the shocked looks on her faces, Hermione sighed and then explained the whole story. Ron and Harry were angry when they realized that she was stuck with Draco every night for the next two weeks, and were all set to break her out or have one of the other girls from Gryffindor serve the detention for her.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes at this. "I don't even want to think about what would happen if the two of you tried to rescue me from detention," she said. "Listen, I'll be fine. I can handle Malfoy, even if he does piss me off."  
  
Harry and Ron looked slightly surprised at Hermione's use of a swear word. They both knew that she found it "unrefined". They cast curious glances at each other, but Hermione didn't notice. She was too busy thinking about what was ahead of her.   
  
Later that night, she fidgeted nervously as she waited in the Potions classroom. The air down in the dungeons felt damp and cold, and she was glad for her robes as she pulled them tighter around her. She looked up as she heard footsteps approach the class, and a few seconds later Malfoy stepped into the classroom. Unlike her, he had not worn his robes, and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone. Unwillingly she found her eyes lingering on the tan skin that was revealed where the shirt fell open, then she looked up when he spoke.  
  
"Detention with a Mudblood," he said, sneering with disgust.   
  
"I don't want to be here anymore than you do," she snapped. "This wouldn't have happened if you would just leave people alone," she added, glaring at him.  
  
Before he could reply, there came the brisk tapping of footsteps and then Professor McGonagall stepped into the room. "Ah, good, you're both here - Mr Malfoy, Miss Granger," she said. "I spoke with Professor Snape and as a part of your punishment, he would like you to clean in here," McGonagall said, looking about the classroom.   
  
Hermione groaned inwardly as she took in the mess around her. All of the desks and tables upon which they performed their work were covered with splotches and stains from the many potions that had been made on top of them. The floor was also dirty, covered with dust and various things that had been tracked in from the halls outside the classroom. Professor McGonagall waved her wand and muttered something, and a bucket and mop appeared on the floor in front of Draco, as well as some other cleaning supplies - muggle cleaning supplies, Hermione realized.  
  
"You may use small charms to assist you," Professor McGonagall said sternly, fixing them both with her stare. "But the majority of the work is to be done by hand. This will take you at least a couple of nights, I am sure. After you have finished here, then we will find something else for you to do."  
  
With that she handed the mop to Draco. "Get busy, Mr Malfoy," the Professor said, before exiting the classroom, leaving Draco and Hermione alone once more.   
  
For a moment Draco stood and stared down at the mop in his hand in disbelief. The old witch expected him to mop the floor by hand? When he had magic that he could use? She must be crazy. He put the mop into the bucket, then looked up to see Granger crossing over the cleaning supplies, a frown on her face. He watched as she selected a couple, then moved over to one of the tables. She stared down at the splotches that covered the smooth wood, and he heard her sigh.   
  
As he continued observing her, she unfastened her robes, then lay them across a desk nearby. Somehow she made the plain white blouse and black skirt that she was wearing look good. She rolled up the sleeves of her blouse, then poured out some of the cleaning solution she had grabbed onto the table. She sniffed it first, getting a slightly surprised look on her face as she did so. He looked over at the pile himself and saw that they were the kinds that the house elves of the school used when they had to clean something by hand. Enchanted with different fragrances, probably, he thought, glancing back at Granger as she headed back over towards the pile. She noticed him looking at her.  
  
"What are you staring at?" she asked. "Never used a mop before, Malfoy?"  
  
He glanced down at the mop that he still held in his hand. He hadn't used one before, actually. The house elves had always looked after the cleaning at home - his father had said that it was below a Malfoy to be seen cleaning. But there was no in hell that he was going to let some Mudblood, especially Granger, know that he didn't know how to do something as simple as mopping. He glared at her, to which she replied with a knowing smirk. As she walked back over to her table with a cloth in hand, he angrily jammed the mop into the water and then started spreading it around on the floor.   
  
They worked in silence for a good while. Each was filled with vicious thoughts as to how the other was the cause of this situation in the first place.   
  
Stupid bitch, Draco thought as he accidentally splashed dirty water all over his pants and looked up to see her smirking at him. If she hadn't interfered in him teaching that little first year brat a lesson, he wouldn't be in this dump cleaning up after Snape.   
  
Hermione grinned to herself when she heard Draco mutter a curse under his breath and looked up to see that he had splashed the filthy water from the floor on his pants. Serves the bastard right, she thought. About time he realized that just because his Daddy was Lucius Malfoy, that didn't mean that he can do whatever the hell he wanted. She felt her angry rise as she remembered all the things that he had done to people during their years at Hogwarts - things that he had gotten away with half the time because Snape had happened to be nearby.  
  
She scrubbed at the table angrily for a moment, using it to vent her frustrations, then looked down at the cloth in her hand with distate. It was covered in different colours of slime and powder that had been caked in layers upon the wooden surface. She walked over to get a new one, passing by where Draco was mopping as she did so. She hit a wet spot on the floor and skidded, struggling wildly for her balance. Unable to control her direction, she careened straight into Draco, who reflexively put up his arms to catch her as she crashed into his chest.  
  
For a moment they both froze. The tip of Hermione's nose was just grazing the fabric of his shirt, and she was distinctly aware of the heat of his hands where they were holding onto her arms. Her hands, which she had reflexively put out to break her fall, were now splayed across the broad expanse of his chest. She could feel the warmth of his skin through the shirt on her palms, and she inhaled a shaky breath,   
  
"Bloody hell," Draco muttered, pushing her back from him, finally breaking the contact. He glared at her for a moment, trying to ignore the gut reaction he had had when she came slamming into him. She had just spent an hour cleaning a dungeon, how the hell did she manage to smell so good? Or look so good? Although she had one small smudge on her cheek and another one on her blouse, the rest of her looked flawless.   
  
"Why can't you watch where you're going, Granger?" he snapped at her.   
  
She glared up at him, her eyes flashing. "If you did a better job of cleaning up after yourself, I wouldn't have slipped!" she retorted.   
  
"Maybe if you weren't always sticking that nose of yours in the air, then you'd have seen that there was water on the floor!" he said.   
  
For a moment they glared at each other. Hermione had two spots of colour high on her cheeks, but the rest of her face was pale with anger. Draco's anger wasn't highly visible on his face, but his blue eyes were cold, and his lips were pressed together. Then he muttered something unintelligible to himself, then reached out. Before Hermione knew what was happening, he had seized her and pulled her close, covering her lips with his.   
  
Hermione immediately froze, but that didn't deter Draco. She would have thought that he would give hard kisses, but he was surprisingly gentle. Then she lost track of her thoughts as his lips moved over hers slowly and hungrily. He nipped at her bottom lip slightly, and when she parted her lips in surprise, his tongue slipped through to touch hers, circling the tip and then sliding along to probe deeper in her mouth. She tentatively responded, allowing her lips to move against his as a shiver raced up her spine.   
  
Then the realization of what she was doing came to her and she jerked back suddenly. Draco straightened up and they both stared at each other, each breathing fast. Hermione stared at him, eyes wide, then turning on her heel she grabbed her robes and fled from the dungeon, leaving Draco behind her, looking rather surprised.   
  
  
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A/N: Hehehehe. I know, I know that I keep you hanging...but this is a good place to break for the next chapter, and you have to admit that I'm updating extremely quickly!! As I said, things heat up in the next chapter, so please read, review and enjoy the anticipation. 


	5. Lust in the Library

Characters: Hermione and Draco (got the idea yet? =P)  
  
Rating: R  
  
**DISCLAIMER** No, I do not own Harry Potter or Hogwarts. If I did, I would not be sitting in a teeny tiny university dorm room, now would I?  
  
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Chapter V  
  
No, no, no, Hermione thought as she slowed down to a walk in the corridors leading away from the dungeons. That did NOT just happen. Draco Malfoy did not just kiss her....and she did NOT just let him... She brought her hand up to her lips, which were still tingling from the contact. She groaned in disbelief. Staring at Draco Malfoy, thinking that he was incredibly sexy and even fantasizing a bit about him - those were all in one category. But having him kiss her...and knowing that she had actually LIKED and responded to it...that was totally different.   
  
She shook her head, her mind racing wildly. She hated Draco Malfoy with every fiber of her being. She could still feel the incredible anger she had felt when he had made that comment about her always having her nose in the air. One minute they had both been glaring at each other, the next he had kissed her! And she had just stood there and let him... Hadn't brought her knee up in that gut response that most other guys would have gotten, hadn't wiggled free...hadn't even gone for her wand. She'd just stood there and let him kiss her, and even responded!  
  
She groaned as these thoughts raced through her head, then looked around her as she emerged into the main part of the castle. It was fairly quiet where she was, and she quickly headed towards Gryffindor. Upon arriving at the portrait she quickly muttered "Spider legs" and stepped through. Harry and Ron were both sitting in the common room, talking to Dean and Neville, but Hermione just responded to their waves and curious looks with a wave of her own. Telling them that she was tired, she quickly hurried up to her room. She threw herself down on her bed, pulling the hangings shut behind her and buried her face in the pillow. How was she going to get through the rest of her detention with Malfoy?  
  
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Fuck. That was the word running through Draco Malfoy's head as he headed towards his own house. What the hell had he been thinking? Lusting after Granger was one thing. There was nothing wrong with thinking that a girl was hot, no matter what kind of blood she had running in her veins. Staring openly at her and making little sexual comments was a good way to piss her off, something that he loved doing to the know it all Gryffindor bitch. But actually kissing her?   
  
He ran his hands through his hair as he walked. He hadn't even been aware that he was going to do it, just had yanked her close and pressed his mouth to hers without even thinking about it. And damn if he hadn't enjoyed kissing her more than he had enjoyed kissing any other girl in a long long time. He shook his head in disbelief. Half the time he wanted to wrap his hands around that pale neck of hers and squeeze as hard as he could, the other half he wanted to make her scream his name.   
  
That wasn't the only thing that was on his mind, however. Because whether or not Granger had wanted to, she had actually liked it - he had felt the way her lips moved against his before she had obviously realized just who she was kissing and bolted from the dungeons. His walk slowed as he pondered this last thought. Who would have thought that Hermione Granger, the goody goody from Gryffindor, would actually enjoy being kissed by Draco Malfoy? A smirk spread across his face. He'd have to keep his hands off of her from now on, but that little bit of information would sure make the next two weeks a lot more interesting.   
  
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The next day seemed like an eternity for Hermione. Her mind kept drifting, and several times Harry and Ron had to drag her attention back to what they were talking about. She had hoped that class would take her mind off of things, but if it was possible she had even more difficulties concentrating there. Especially in Potions class. Draco wasn't looking in her direction when she came in with Harry and Ron, but she immediately spotted him. As soon as her eyes fell on him, slouched in his desk with a bored look on his face as Crabbe and Goyle prattled on to him, the memory of their kiss the night before came flooding back. She shook her head in disgust and hurried to her desk. She would NOT think about Draco that way. She simply would NOT!  
  
Detention that night was once again in Snape's classroom. McGonagall once again swept in, told them that they were doing a good job, but that she expected it to be finished by the end of their time there, and then left the two of them alone again. Hermione started working immediately, and was surprised to find that except for a few glares that she found cast in her direction, Draco left her alone. They managed to finish cleaning the classroom, much to Hermione's relief. She didn't want to spend another night down in the damp dungeons, it was bad enough during the day.   
  
The next night Draco and Hermione met Professor McGonagall in the school library, as per the letter they both had received that morning. The large room, filled with rows upon rows of tall shelves which were filled with all sorts of books, was empty of any other people. Draco and Hermione both looked around at the tidy shelves, wondering what work could possibly need to be done. The answer came when the huge wooden door behind creaked open and the Transfiguration Professor stepped in.  
  
"A group of first years was in here today," Professor McGonagall said with a sigh. "They were given a tour of the library, but unfortunately the prefect who was with them let them have free reign for the last fifteen minutes. As a result, many of the books in the first few stacks," here the Professor gestured at some of the shelves, "are quite messy. I'd like you to put the books back in order, and dust the shelves while you are at it."  
  
"Oh, and you'll have to fetch the dusting cloths from the cleaning closet just down the hall," McGonagall said before leaving. "Don't go thinking that you can just magic all the books back into place, either - they all have anti transportation spells on them to prevent robbery."  
  
After she left, Hermione and Draco stood and stared at each other and the shelves of books for a few moments, then Hermione turned and headed towards the door.   
  
"Hey, where do you think you're going, Mudblood?" he asked her, grabbing her arm.   
  
"I'm going down the hall to get the cloths, like she said," Hermione said, glaring at him and wrenching her arm from his grasp. "And keep your hands off of me!"  
  
"That's not what you said yesterday," Draco said with a smirk. "But anyway, I'm going to come with you," he pushed on, before she could reply.  
  
"Fine," Hermione said, turning her back on him and marching out of the library, her robes swishing around her. "Although I'm perfectly capable of carrying a few cloths, you know," she threw over her shoulder.  
  
"Its not your abilities I'm worried about," he drawled. "I just want to make sure that you come back, because there's no way in hell I'm going to rearrange those moldy old books myself."  
  
Hermione was about to reply when she and Draco rounded a curve in the corridor and stopped dead at the sight before them.   
  
"Ohhhh, Jared!!" Pansy Parkinson cried, her legs wrapped around the Head Boy's torso, her skirt hiked up around her waist. Jared just let out a grunt in reply as he thrust into the Slytherin girl, holding her pushed up against the wall.   
  
For a moment the two just stared at the entwined couple in front of them, then they both turned and walked swiftly in the other direction. Along the way, Hermione spotted the closet that McGonagall had been speaking of. She opened it and grabbed some cloths without speaking, although she knew very well that earlier that closet had been further down the corridor. Sometimes the magical ability of the rooms in the castle was a good thing, she thought, shuddering as she thought of how she might have had to walk by Pansy and Jared in order to get the supplies.   
  
It wasn't until they were back in the Library, the doors safely shut behind them, that either of them said anything.   
  
"That was...that was..." Hermione sputtered, unable to put a word to what she had just seen.  
  
"That was Pansy being her usual slutty self," Draco said dryly, moving towards the tall shelves of books.   
  
Hermione followed him. "Does she normally have sex in the hallway?" she asked in disbelief.  
  
"Wherever she can get it," Draco said with a shrug. "If I came along a few minutes from now, when Jared's done with her, and asked her for some, she'd be glad to give it to me right there."  
  
"Do you know this from experience?" Hermione asked, then snapped her mouth shut in disbelief. Where had that come from? Normally she would have never asked such a question.   
  
"Possibly," Draco said, flashing her a curious glance. "Although why you would be curious about my sex life is beyond me."  
  
"I'm not!" Hermione exclaimed, her cheeks growing red.   
  
"Perhaps because you have none of your own?" Draco said with a mocking smile.   
  
Hermione paused as she was pulling a book off of the shelf, then very deliberately put it in its proper place. "Not that its any of your business," she said icily, "but I'm not totally naive in that area, thank you very much."  
  
"So Viktor Krum got Gryffindor's Golden Girl to lighten up a bit, hmmm?" Draco said as Hermione continued reorganizing the many books in front of her.  
  
"What makes you think that it was him?" Hermione asked him. Then she frowned. "And why am I discussing my sex life or lack thereof, with you, Malfoy?!"  
  
"Well, you'd probably rather die than discuss sex with Potter or Weasley," Draco replied smoothly. "And if you can't talk about it with them, you're sure as hell not going to be doing the deed with them either."  
  
"Harry and Ron are my best friends," Hermione said coolly. "I don't see why I couldn't talk about it with them."  
  
"Weasley would probably be all over you if he thought that you had the slightest interest in any kind of sex," Draco snickered.   
  
Hermione went bright red. "Ron's not like that," she snapped. "And besides, I wouldn't let him touch me."  
  
"Oh," Draco said with interest. "So you wouldn't let your best friend kiss you, but you'd let me?"  
  
Hermione went white at these words. "You forced yourself on me," she finally said. "It wasn't a case of letting you."  
  
"Mmmhmmm," Draco replied. "And that's why you kissed me back, right?"  
  
"I did not kiss you back - oh!" Hermione gasped as she whirled to look at Draco, only to find him directly behind her. He placed his hands on the shelves on either side of her, holding her prisoner with his body.   
  
"I know when a girl kisses me back," Malfoy said. "And I'm willing to bet that you've thought about it a few times since, too."  
  
"No, I haven't given it another thought," she said defiantly.  
  
He regarded her intently for a moment, then smirked. "Liar. You couldn't respond to me like that and not think about it again."   
  
He stepped closer, and his voice dropped to just above a whisper.   
  
"So you haven't given it another though, hmm? Haven't thought about what it would be like to feel my lips on yours again? Feel the touch of my tongue on yours? Maybe," and here he moved even closer, causing Hermione to press backwards in search of an escape that wasn't available. "Maybe feel my lips all over your body, even down here?"  
  
As he said those last words, his one hand dropped to brush against the front of her skirt, and Hermione gasped. She desperately tried to think of something to say, but all she could think of was how incredibly sexy his voice sounded when he spoke like that. She had goosebumps on her arms, and her heart was pounding. For a moment the two just stared at each other, Hermione's eyes wide and uncertain, Draco's blue ones very intent.  
  
"Ah, to hell with it," Draco said, and then he leaned down and kissed his bitter rival for the second time. 


	6. Bridges Crossed

A/N: This is one of the chapters I've had to rewrite...not sure how it has turned out, but we'll see... I could have toned down the scene that was here before, I guess, but doing that forces me to walk the line between R and NC-17, I don't really want to do that right now. I think its ok as it is, and I hope you guys do too ^_^ If you want all the juicy details, please see my website, where the full, original version is available.   
  
**DISCLAIMER** I'm not JK Rowling. I'm just a poor university student who likes to write stories. So please don't sue me.  
  
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Chapter 6  
  
When Draco's mouth came down on hers, Hermione didn't know whether to curse herself for being incredibly glad, or curse Malfoy for taking so damn long to do it. She wanted to kill him for the things that he had said, but she also knew she'd want to kill him if he stopped kissing her in that slow, exquisitely thorough method. He hands came up to cup her shoulders for a moment, then slowly slid down, and she marvelled at how just that slight touch could send shivers through her.   
  
Dammit, Draco thought to himself as he proceeded to kiss Granger for all he was worth. In the back of his mind he knew that this wasn't what one normally did with your enemies. But then again, he thought, most enemies probably did not have the chemistry that the two of them did. Just because she was a Mudblood, that didn't mean that he should have to deprive himself. And he couldn't help but get some satisfaction from knowing that he made Miss Hermione Granger, the pet of Hogwarts, moan in the back of her throat as she was doing now.   
  
Hermione suddenly drew back and stared up at him. Her lips were darker than normal and swollen from the pressure of their kiss, and her eyes were wide.   
  
"I hate you," she said slowly, simply.  
  
He chuckled, running his hands down her arms to slip around her slender waist. "The feeling's mutual, Granger," he said. "I don't think either of this wants to feel this way - you're a fucking Mudblood, and I'm a Malfoy." he said.   
  
Her eyes narrowed at the insult, but he spoke before she could say anything.   
  
"But that doesn't stop me from feeling this way," and as he said this he pulled her close to him, so that she was flattened up against the length of his body. Her eyes darkened as she felt the evidence of his arousal pressed against her.   
  
He bent over and brushed away the hair from the side of her neck, then proceeded to press a kiss to the soft spot beneath her ear. She shivered as he spoke again and his warm breath tickled her skin. "And I know that you feel the same way as I do," he said slowly, proceeding to trail his tongue along her neck from the base of her ear down to her collarbone.  
  
"I don't understand...," she said, trailing off in a gasp as he nipped the sensitive skin on her neck gently, then soothed the spot with the wet heat of his tongue.   
  
"Whats to understand?" he asked with amusement as he drew back. He grinned at her mockingly. "Sex doesn't take hate into consideration, Granger. Sex doesn't have to be about emotions...it can be simple, no strings attached. And if you want it, thats what you'll get."  
  
For a moment Hermione stared up at him, unsure what to say. Part of her was bristling with indignation at what he had said, but the other part was longing to continue what they had begun. She was acutely aware of the way his body felt pressed up against hers. Her hands were still on his arms where she had put them when he had pulled her close, and underneath her fingertips she could feel the heat of his skin burning through his shirt, and the coiled tension of his muscles. He arched a brow as he looked down at her.  
  
"Well?" he asked. "I'm not going to make this easy on you, Granger. I know that I could seduce you and have my way with that sexy little body of yours, but I'm not going to risk you running to anyone with some sob story about how I forced myself on you. If you want it," he said, staring deep into her eyes, "come and get it."  
  
Hermione glared up at him, then shifted against him slightly, hoping that he would kiss her again, but he merely stepped back slightly, putting some space between their bodies. She muttered a curse under her breath, then reached up and pulled his head down to hers. As their tongues twined together the thought ran through her head that she would probably regret this later, but then as passion surged between them, the thought was swept away.  
  
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Later that night, Hermione lay on her bed, gazing off into the darkness. Her dormitory room was quiet, except for the soft sounds of Lavendar and Parvati breathing. She had been lucky, all her friends had been in bed when she had arrived back from detention.   
  
She sighed softly. Her mind was in a daze. So many thoughts were swirling through her head...thoughts of what she had done, thoughts of what could happen now, thoughts of the past before this year.   
  
She had always been Hermione Granger, the smart student. Grades had always been important to her, and she had always wanted to do well in school. When she had found out about Hogwarts, she had gone out at once and read as much as she could. The history of the old magical school had fascinated her, and as she read about all the wonderful and powerful wizards and witches that had graduated or worked within the school, she had promised herself that she would make her parents proud.  
  
Until she had come to Hogwarts, her life had been normal... She had never really had any very close friends. Nobody had really hated her, but neither had they really liked her, either. Until she came to Hogwarts, and met Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.   
  
They hadn't liked her at first - nor had she liked them. She had thought that neither of them took their place at Hogwarts seriously enough, and she had always wondered how Harry, being The Boy Who Lived, could seemingly take things so lightly. But then they had saved her from that awful troll, and ever since then they had been the best of friends.   
  
And her life had changed irrevocably. So many things had happened since then. Ron and Harry had taught her so much about friendship, and about how there was more to life than textbooks and marks. School was important, yes, but it should never get in the way of friendship, when it came down to it.   
  
On the opposite end of things was Draco Malfoy. She'd never been hated until she met him. She had never hated anyone until she met him, either.  
  
And oh, did she hate him. He was so cocky and arrogant, obnoxious and rude, callous and unfeeling. She had seen him hurt so many people, and she knew that he didn't care one bit. He had always tried his best to make life miserable for Harry and Ron, and more than once she had found herself on the recieving end of his malicious comments.   
  
And now here she was lying in her bed, recovering from what had been the most intense sexual experience of her life.  
  
And it had been with Draco Malfoy.  
  
Granted, she hadn't had that much experience. She and Viktor hadn't had a totally platonic relationship, but it hadn't gone anywhere near to what she had done with Malfoy.   
  
And she wouldn't have wanted it to, either. Viktor was nice, she had enjoyed being with him. But to put things plain and simple, he didn't really turn her on.  
  
Not the way that Malfoy did.  
  
And oh, did he ever turn her on. Even now, when her whole body felt replete and satisfied, she found herself thinking about the way he had touched her all over. The way he had looked without his uniform on, and the way he had felt when he had been moving deep inside her. How could somebody that she hated so much, make her feel so good?  
  
As this thought ran through her head, Hermione blushed and groaned.  
  
What was she going to do?   
  
She could try to just ignore Malfoy, but she had a sinking feeling that approach wouldn't bring her much success. She had detention with him for the next two weeks, for god sake!   
  
She flinched as she found herself swearing. What was wrong with her? She had never had thoughts like this before.   
  
She had never done anything like this before either. She had wanted to have more fun this year, yes. Wanted more experience, more of a social life. She had wanted to actually have something interesting happen to her that didn't involve Harry and the countless intrigues that surrounded her best friend.  
  
But what the hell had she been thinking? A year ago she would have never done something like have sex with one of the other students of Hogwarts. And in the Library, no less!   
  
And what were Harry and Ron going to think? If they ever found out that their best friend had had wild sex with Draco Malfoy - well, who knew what their reactions would be. They wouldn't be happy about it, thats for sure.   
  
And there was the rest of the school too - wouldn't the Slytherin's just love it if they knew that Draco Malfoy had managed to get Hermione Granger? She knew that Draco's housemates detested her almost as much as he did.   
  
And Gryffindor...what would her friends in Gryffindor think of her... or the professors...or her parents...or Hagrid...  
  
She groaned and rolled over, burying her head in the welcoming softness of her pillow.   
  
She could just die now and get it all over with, she thought drearily. For she knew there was no way she could possibly survive the next two weeks of detention with Malfoy, let alone the whole year.   
  
What had she gotten herself into?   
  
She closed her eyes, determined to get at least some sleep before the night was through. Tomorrow she had classes, and she had to be ready for those, no matter what was going on in her social life. She would think of something to get her away from Draco later. There was no way she was going to have sex with him again.  
  
But before she drifted off into dreamland, one last thought floated through her mind.  
  
Hate or not, she really wouldn't mind having another experience like that sometime soon.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
In another part of Hogwarts, Draco lay on his back in his bed, unaware of the fact that he was staring off into space in much the same way as Hermione had been doing a few moments earlier.  
  
His hands were laced behind his head and the covers were pulled up just far enough to reach his waist, leaving his chest bare. He shifted slightly on the bed and winced.  
  
Who knew that Granger would be such a wildcat, he thought with amusement.   
  
He'd had scratches before, of course. Some of the Slytherin girls, such as Pansy, seemed to delight in leaving their mark on him. Of course, knowing this he always healed them right away, much to their dismay. He rolled his eyes. Like he was going to let any of the little sluts actually have something to brag about.   
  
But scratches from Hermione Granger? Practically priceles. He would definitely leave those to heal on their own. Just to remind him of what she was hiding beneath that prissy, good goody goody exterior of hers.   
  
And her attitude in bed matched her body, he thought, his smile widening into a grin as he thought about the way she had looked, moving beneath him, pleasure written across her face.  
  
The smile faded from his lips as he thought about the other consequences to what he done in the Library with Granger that night.  
  
He was a Malfoy, after all. His father would definitely not approve of his son having sex with a Mudblood, especially a goody goody Gryffindor Mudblood who was friends with Harry Potter.  
  
He sighed, and a bitter smile twisted his lips. He knew his father would never listen to him when he said that fucking Hermione Granger had just been the same as if he had got it on with any of the other girls at Hogwarts.  
  
No, Lucius Malfoy would turn it into some big thing. The filthy Mudblood had seduced Draco, he'd insist. And that would mean that Draco was weak.   
  
Malfoy's had to be strong, his father had always told him. They were their own people, and didn't take shit from anyone.   
  
He had used to believe that, until he saw how his father bowed and scraped to Voldemort. His father was as much a fucking puppet to the Dark Lord as anyone, and it made Draco sick.  
  
If Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord when he was only a sniveling baby, then obviously he wasn't such a great wizard after all, was he. Draco hadn't been able to believe it when he finally laid eyes on Potter. The way everyone talked about him, you would think that he was half god himself.   
  
Draco snorted to himself. He doubted that gods had black hair that wouldn't stay put, or big green eyes that always looked slow and terrified behind those big glasses that Potter always wore.   
  
Of course, he could never tell any of this to his father. Who knew how many hours of torture at the end of Lucius' wand such thoughts would earn him.   
  
His hands, now down at his sides, clenched into fists.   
  
Of course, he could never tell anyone what his father put him through. He was a Malfoy after all - Malfoy's didn't complain, they took what was coming to them and bore it. Unless it was outside the family. Then they waited, and plotted, and in the end got sweet revenge.   
  
But revenge would never be an option for him, now would it, Draco thought. Lucius Malfoy had been Voldemort's little pet, and had weaseled his way back into that position with cunning now that the Dark Lord had returned.   
  
But Draco was tired of being his father's little puppet. He wasn't going to give up great sex just because she was a mudblood. And besides, the satisfaction of knowing that he drove her wild was too sweet, and dammit if he was going to give that up either.   
  
So for once in his life, Lucius Malfoy would just have to fuck off and leave his son alone.  
  
Draco gritted his teeth and forced his mind away from thoughts of his father.  
  
He stretched slightly and grinned as the pleasant aching sensation that came from good sex spread through his body. He could do with another round right now, actually. A chuckle escaped his lips as he pondered what Granger would do if he was to show up in her chambers right now. He could just imagine her face as she frantically tried to convince him to return to his own chambers before he woke up any of her room-mates.  
  
A yawn escaped his lips despite of himself, and he rolled over, groaning as the sounds of Crabbe and Goyle's snoring filled his ears. They really did seem to get worse every year, and if it wasn't for his father, he'd have dropped the dumbasses a long time ago.  
  
With a wave of his wand, which had been sitting on the bedside table, silence fell around his bed, and Draco began to drift off to sleep. As his body relaxed and his mind drifted, one last thought came to him.  
  
Hate or not, he wouldn't mind having another experience like that, and the sooner, the better. 


	7. Consequences and Surprises

**DISCLAIMER** I'm just a poor, stressed University Student. I relieve my stress by making Harry and his little friends do odd little things - but I don't own them.  
  
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Chapter 10  
  
The next day did not start off well for Hermione. First thing in the morning, as she was staring into the small mirror that her parents had given her, she caught sight of a mark on her neck. Turning the mirror slightly to get a better look, she groaned when she clearly saw the blotchy purple mark on the smooth skin of her neck.  
  
A hickey! He had given her a goddamn hickey!  
  
She thought quickly, trying to remember a spell that would cover it from curious eyes, all the while cursing her Slytherin enemy. She just knew that he had done that on purpose.   
  
She hoped to relax a bit at breakfast, but then found herself having to deal with Ron and Harry, much to her frustration. It started right at breakfast, as they took their places at the table around her.   
  
"Where were you last night?" Ron hissed as he sat down across from her. "We stayed up as long as we could, but then one of the prefects made us go to bed."  
  
"Yeah," Harry said in agreement, around a mouthful of his bun, which he had already started devouring. "We tried to tell him that we were waiting for you but the stupid git didn't listen to us."  
  
"I was pretty late getting back, but you guys didn't need to wait up for me," Hermione said quickly, hoping desperately that they would just drop the subject.  
  
She couldn't deal with this right now. She really couldn't. It was only the third day back at school, how could things possibly be so complicated already?  
  
"Are you kidding?" Ron exclaimed. "Hermione, you were with Malfoy - and not only that, we know that McGonagall's in charge of your detention, and everyone knows what she's like."  
  
Hermione looked up in confusion. "What do you mean?" she asked her friend.  
  
"You know," Harry said.   
  
"Obviously I don't," Hermione snapped. Honestly, she thought to herself, sometimes the two of them could be so dense.  
  
"She always leaves you alone when you have detention with her," Ron explained.   
  
"Only because nobody would dare do anything when its her in charge," Seamus grumbled, having overheard the conversation. "She did that to me and Dean once, left us in the Trophy Room all alone - any other professor, we'd sneak out, but with her you don't know what you might end up as."  
  
Hermione laughed. She knew that one of the biggest fears of many of the students was that the strict Transfiguration teacher would change them into something someday, but she could hardly imagine Professor McGonagall doing that.  
  
"There he is now," Ron grumbled.   
  
Hermione looked up just in time to see Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, come strolling into the Hall.   
  
Their eyes immediately met and held, blue-grey eyes boring into brown, before he smiled lazily at her. She felt her stomach do a slow flip and she had to take a deep breath to get control of herself once again.  
  
Stop it, she scolded herself. She picked at her eggs morosely with her fork. If she couldn't even handle being in the Hall with him, how on earth was she going to handle being in detention with him tonight?  
  
"I don't know how you stood all that time with him," Ron snapped in disgust. "Honestly, you'd think that McGonagall would have more pity than to stick you with a scumbag like him."  
  
"Well, I broke the rules," Hermione said, desperate to turn the conversation away from Malfoy. "So now I have to face the consequences."  
  
Ron didn't look at all happy with her reply, but luckily Seamus spoke up, and Hermione sighed with relief as her friend turned away.   
  
The last thing she needed to deal with right now were her two over protective best friends and their inquisitive questions. In fact, she wasn't at all certain that she could handle them - if they'd kept at it she'd snap in some way or another.   
  
She sighed deeply and slumped back in her chair, ignoring the inquisitive look that Harry sent her before he was distracted by Neville knocking over his glass of orange juice.   
  
At least she had one thought to console herself with. Things couldn't possibly get any worse.  
  
Could they?  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
She was definitely on edge, Draco thought to himself with amusement as he ate his breakfast, ignoring Crabbe and Goyle, who were prattling on about some stupid thing that they had done to a first year the day before.   
  
He'd seen the way her head had snapped up when Weasley had noticed him entering the Hall and had said something to her about it. Those big brown eyes of hers had gone wide, especially when he had caught her eye and held it, only to smile at her.   
  
Oh yes. Granger was definitely very aware of all that had gone on the night before. She probably didn't like it either. He could only just imagine the thoughts that were running through that little head of hers.   
  
She was probably going crazy, thinking about what might happen if people were to find out - people like her precious Potter and Weasley, or the Professors.   
  
And if he knew anything about Hermione Granger from the last five years of school together, it was that she didn't take it well when something ruined up her perfect plans for herself.   
  
He had a nasty habit of doing that to her, didn't he? The thought made him grin with amusement.   
  
He knew that her favourite tactic when dealing with things that got in her way was to simply ignore them, but she was in for a surprise if she thought that was going to work in this situation.   
  
He was going to make very sure that Granger couldn't ignore what was between them. He doubted that she'd actually be able to, considering the effect that they had had on each other the night before, but he wasn't going to take any chances. There was no way in hell he was going to let her just block it all out.  
  
As these thoughts went through his head, the Hall was filled with the sound of many wings beating the air. Draco looked up and waited patiently as he caught sight of a medium sized snowy owl winging its way towards.   
  
He sighed to himself. His mother did the same thing every year - sent him a package fulled with little magical oddends that she thought he might appreciate. He had told her not to many times, because he knew that his father would not be pleased with the idea.   
  
Malfoys didn't need to be babied, he'd say. No need for such nonsense.  
  
Never mind that this was the same man who insisted that his wife keep a stockpile of candy around the mansion, to satisfy his sweet tooth. No, Lucius Malfoy could do whatever he wanted. But god forbid that his mother might try to extend this to their only son.  
  
Of course, Draco didn't really need any of the things that his mother sent him. But that was no reason to deny her the pleasure of sending them to him. God knows that she had it bad enough at home, locked in their big mansion with his jealous father. His mother was just another possession to his father, Draco thought bitterly. Just like he himself was just a way of extending the precious Malfoy bloodline.  
  
He gently stroked the owl on the head. He recognized her as one of his mother's favourites, and so he slipped a piece of toast into her small yellow beak before watching it fly away.   
  
He turned his attention to the package in front of him and was debating on whether or not to open it now or later, when another owl landed on the back of his chair.   
  
He looked at it in disgust, for it was a rather shabby brown colour, and showed signs of age. Nobody in his family could have possibly sent this owl to him. He was about to open his mouth to order the owl away when he noticed the scroll that it had attached to its ankle.   
  
He reached out and ran his finger along the parchment, upon which was written, in a sloppy scrawl, the words "Mr Draco Malfoy - best to open this away from prying eyes."  
  
He unattached the scroll quickly from the owl, then shooed it away with a wave of his hand.   
  
"What'cha got there, Malfoy?" Crabbe asked through a mouthful of food.  
  
"None of your business, and shut that great hole of yours when you're eating," Draco said with a snap.   
  
Crabbe just shrugged, used to Draco's many insults, and turned back to his food while Draco turned his own attention back to the scroll.   
  
He got up and strolled over to lean against the wall behind the Slytherin Table, making sure that none of the portraits were nearby. He undid the stained ribbon that was holding the scroll shut, then had to fumble for a moment as a smaller roll nearly fell out onto the floor.   
  
And when Draco saw what was on the smaller roll, he was very glad that he had caught it in his hands.  
  
It was a wizard photo, obviously taken later on in the evening the night before. There before his eyes were the figures of Granger and himself. He was in the process of kissing his way down Granger's stomach, and in the photograph she was rolling her head from side to side. Draco paused a moment to enjoy the look of pleasure that was clearly obvious on her face, then turned his attention to the scroll.   
  
As he scanned his eyes over what was written on the parchment, scrawled in the same sloppy writing as on the front, a slow anger began to burn in the pit of his stomach. Looking up and catching sight of Granger sitting across the hall, he crumpled up the scroll and strode towards her, seething with anger.   
  
Granger was sitting across from Potter and beside Weasley, who looked ready to kill when he caught sight of him approaching, but Draco didn't care. He came to a stop behind Potter, and sensing something was wrong, Hermione looked up.   
  
"I need to talk to you, Granger," he said curtly.   
  
"You can talk to her later, Malfoy," Weasley snapped at him.  
  
"Oh shut up and let your little girlfriend speak for herself," Draco snapped back. In the back of his head a little voice chuckled about how ironic it was that Draco should be calling Granger Weasley's girlfriend, but Draco was to angry to appreciate the situation.  
  
He expected Granger to object more, but to his surprise she just stood up.   
  
"Hermione, you can't talk to that stupid git," Harry hissed at her.   
  
"Yes I can, Harry," she snapped back, and Draco watched with slight amusement at the interchange between the two friends. "I'll see you two in Potions, and for once don't worry about me. I am more than capable of handling Malfoy."  
  
With that she turned and stalked towards the door. Draco followed, a smirk curving his lips.   
  
"What the fuck do you want, Malfoy," Granger said, whirling to face him once they were out in the hallway.   
  
Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise. Yes, she was definitely on edge.  
  
"More like what the fuck are you playing at, Granger, " he replied, brandishing the scroll at her. "Did you really think that your little plan would work? It'll take more than one little photo to blackmail me."  
  
He waited for her to heatedly deny any knowledge of what he was talking about, but to his surprise her beautiful face went white.   
  
"You got one too?" she asked after a minute, in a quiet voice.  
  
"Of course I got one, you stupid little bitch," he said angrily. "Who's idea was it? Potter's? No wait, it had to be Weasley. Only that stupid carrot head would think of something as dumb as this."  
  
"I presume you're talking about something like this?" Granger said, as she threw something at him.   
  
He caught it reflexively, and found himself looking at another photo of the two of them the night before. This time Granger was straddling him, and she was in the process of pulling down his boxers. In the photo she kept smiling and tossing her hair, while his photographic self was smirking arrogantly at her as he lifted his hips to assist her.   
  
"And one of these, right?" Granger continued, shoving a scroll in his face.   
  
He took it from her and read the words that had been printed on his own scroll in the same sloppy handwriting.   
  
"Photos, particularily ones of this sort, can say a million things. Unless you wish these to fall into certain curious and vengeful hands, I suggest that you be prepared to talk when you have detention tonight. Destroy this if you wish, there are plenty more where that came from."  
  
"You write oh so well," Draco said with a sneer as he looked at her. "I think that even Crabbe or Goyle could come up with something better than this garbage."  
  
"Oh come on, Malfoy," Granger said, tossing back her hair and glaring up at him angrily. "Do you really think that I would do something like this? I'm not that stupid. What I did in that Library last night was purely consentual, even if I regret doing it today."  
  
Draco just glared at her, unconvinced.   
  
"Give me credit for having some intelligence," she continued impatiently. "Its blatantly obvious that you have just as much to blackmail ME with as I would ever have on you. So why would I do something stupid like this?"  
  
Draco stared at her for a few moments. He might not like Granger, but he had to admit that her words were making sense. In some ways she had far more to lose than he did - while he just had the recriminations that would come from his father to deal with, she faced being ridiculed by the whole school.  
  
"You know I'm right," Granger continued. She crossed her arms over her chest and regarded him coolly and when she spoke again there was ice in her voice.  
  
"We've got ourselves quite a little predicament here, Malfoy. Because whether or not we like it, somebody was in the Library last night, and they saw our little rendevous."  
  
He didn't speak, his mind racing with his thoughts, and then she spoke once more.   
  
"Now I don't know about you, but I want to know what the hell we are going to do about it." 


	8. The Watcher Revealed

**DISCLAIMER** I do not own Harry, Hermione, Draco, etc etc...I'm just a university student who likes to write about them.  
  
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Chapter 11  
  
"Well for one thing, we could make sure that we aren't seen next time," Draco drawled.   
  
Now that he knew that Granger hadn't been the one to set up this little plot, he was much more relaxed, and even finding it a bit funny. She was obviously very uncomfortable, and probably very nervous at the idea that someone had seen them. It was nice to see her lose control, for once.   
  
"What makes you think there's going to be a next time, Malfoy?" she snapped, an angry flush rising in her pale cheeks.   
  
"Oh, I don't think that, Granger," Draco said softly. "I know it."  
  
"You are unbelievable!" she said, staring at him in disbelief. "How can you think about sex at a time like this?"  
  
"Very easily," he said softly, as he walked towards her with slow, deliberate steps, enjoying the way her brown eyes widened as he drew closer.  
  
Hermione eyed Malfoy warily. As they had been talking, they had walked on down the corridor, and had just now turned into one of the smaller passages. It wasn't well travelled, and she and Malfoy were a ways down it now, out of sight of the main hall.   
  
Too out of sight for her liking.   
  
She recognized that hungry, intent look he had in his eyes - it was the same one he had had the night before. It was quite obvious that he was finding it quite easy, indeed, to think about sex.   
  
She stepped backwards, seeking to find her way around him so that she could turn his attention back to their conversation. To her dismay, she was stopped short by an obstacle blocking her way, and felt the cool stone of the wall against her back.  
  
How did she always find herself trapped like this when she was around him, she thought with dismay. She sought to move around him, but he placed his hands on the wall on either side of her, blocking her escape. She glared furiously at him, then brought her knee up in a quick movement. He was too quick for that, however. To her horror, she found her knee imprisoned between his two legs in a vice like grasp. He smirked at her furious expression.  
  
"Unlike most of the male population, I was actually taught on how to avoid that particular move," Malfoy drawled. "I also have quick reflexes, so I suggest you find some other way of defense if you intend on keeping me away from you."  
  
"Well, I wouldn't need a way of defense if you would just leave me alone," she snapped angrily.   
  
She wrenched her knee free of the grip he had on it, then flattened herself back against the wall as he moved forward quickly, pinning her to the wall with his body. She swallowed as she felt the hardness of his body pressed up against her even through the thickness of her robes.   
  
You can do this, Hermione, she told herself quietly. Its just sexual attraction, don't let it get to you. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then opened them and looked up at him, trying to appear calm.   
  
"Look, just let me go so that we can talk about this, ok?" she asked quietly.  
  
"In a minute," he said.   
  
Before she could protest, his head was lowering and his mouth was on hers. It wasn't a gentle kiss, but a fierce, determined one that took her breath away.   
  
Well well, Draco thought to himself in the back of his mind. He'd finally found a way to get Hermione Granger to shut up. As he moved his lips over hers, kissing her thoroughly, he felt her hands come up to rest on his arms, which were braced against the wall beside her. He moved them to rest on her shoulders, then slid them down to rest at her waist before reaching around to cup her ass and pull her close to him.  
  
Her arms brushed against him as they came up to link around his neck and he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue through her lips to twine with her own. He molded her body to his, stroking one hand up to rest on her back as he nipped her bottom lip gently. Then he let go of her abruptly, stepping back and putting his hands in the pockets of his robe.  
  
"As much as I'd like to continue this, Granger," he said with amusement as he looked down into her slightly dazed brown eyes, "We really should talk about how we're going to handle this little blackmailer of ours."  
  
He saw the anger rising in her eyes and had to restrain himself from laughing out loud. It had always been fun to get under her skin and annoy her, but it was even better now that he could tease her with his body as well. She opened her mouth to speak, snapped it shut again, then finally spoke.  
  
"Listen, Malfoy," she hissed. "Keep your hands off of me if you enjoy having them attached to the rest of you."  
  
He arched a brow. She really was persistent in denying her own feelings, he thought amusedly to himself.  
  
"Granger," he said slowly. "If you like, I can take you up to my room and show you just exactly how much you want my hands on you. Unfortunately, that would keep us away from class. We'd probably get more detention.." Here he paused and shrugged. "But I'm willing to risk that."  
  
He saw her eyes widen and continued. "So you have two choices. You can stand there and deny that you like me touching you all you like, and then I'll just proceed to show you how wrong you are. Or you can accept the inevitable and we can talk about dealing with our little problem."  
  
Hermione was seething inside. She'd never been so angry in her life - not only at herself for falling prey to Malfoy so easily, but also at Malfoy himself because she knew in the pit of her stomach that he was right. There was no way she was going to admit that, however.  
  
"Lets talk about this," she said finally, after taking a deep breath to calm her raging pulse.   
  
From the skeptical, smug look that he gave her, she knew that he was aware that she was avoiding the question. She waited tensly, and to her relief Malfoy didn't push the point about her wanting him any further, just raised an eyebrow before speaking.  
  
"The way I see it," he said, idly taking the scroll out of his pocket and tossing it from hand to hand, "We don't really have anything to worry about."  
  
"What makes you think that?" she asked in frustration. "They have a picture of us, Malfoy - its kind of hard to deny that kind of evidence."  
  
"Well, for one thing," Malfoy said as he leaned up against the wall and regarded her intently. "Its going to be someone that either you or I can handle."  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked with a frown.  
  
"Well, if its one half of the students in the school," he said with a tinge of amusement in his voice, "You can scare them out of their pants with stories of what they do to students who not only rat on each other, but were in the Library late at night. We had an excuse to be there - they didn't."  
  
"And not only that," he continued. "But your relationship with Potter is going to help you out, he's got a regular little fan club going here at the school I'm sure if you mention his name a couple of times they'll be bound to rethink their little plan."  
  
"As for the other half of the school..." Here Malfoy shrugged. "I can scare them with stories of what my father would do to them if he ever found out that they had gotten me into trouble."  
  
"Of course, Daddy would come to the rescue," Hermione said with a snort.  
  
He didn't rise to the jibe, merely shrugged. "Don't forget, its not just my ass "Daddy" will be saving, Granger."  
  
She glared at him for a moment, then sighed. He was right, and what was even more infuriating, she was sure that he knew that. But he did have a point - the half of the school that didn't have a healthy fear and respect for the Professors and Harry would be terrified of what Lucius Malfoy might do to them.  
  
"I just hope you're right, Malfoy," she said.  
  
They were interrupted by the sound of voices coming from the direction of the Great Hall. Hermione looked at Malfoy in a panic, not wanting Harry and Ron or any of the others to see her still with him.   
  
"Go ahead, Granger," he said, rolling his eyes. "I won't put any more stress on you...for now."   
  
The last two words were added on a rather smug tone, but Hermione ignored them as she ducked out of the small corridor and hurried in the direction that the voices were coming from. Sure enough, Harry and Ron were striding down the hall with determined looks on their faces that lightened a bit when they caught sight of her.  
  
"Malfoy just wanted to talk to me about detention tonight," she said hurriedly, before either of them could say anything.   
  
"Now come on, we're going to be late for class if we don't hurry."  
  
She linked arms with her two friends and hurried away with them, knowing without looking back that Malfoy was watching them go with amusement.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The day seemed to drag on and on for Hermione. She honestly couldn't remember a time in her life when she had been in more turmoil. How had she managed to get herself into this situation? It was only three days into school and already she had huge amounts of stress.   
  
She really didn't need this, Hermione thought. No, she didn't need it at all. She had had enough to deal with before Draco came along - school, grades, her future, worrying about Harry and Ron.   
  
Seeing Malfoy again had thrown her for a loop, thats for sure. Well - not seeing him, but her reaction to him upon seeing him. Wanting to have wild passionate sex with her enemy wasn't exactly what she had expected to be on her mind this year. And then there was the fact that she had actually gone ahead and done it - purely of her own free will, too!   
  
Oh yes, that alone would have kept her thinking for quite a long time. But no, of course, something else had to come along to make it more interesting. Even though she knew that Malfoy had a good point about who had written that letter to her, she had a weird feeling about the whole thing. Something was telling her that the writer of the letter wasn't going to be as easy to deal with as what Malfoy thought.   
  
Her worries must have shown on her face throughout the day, although she tried to act as though everything was normal. Harry and Ron noticed, of course, and kept nagging her as to why she was so quiet and why she kept acting funny. Even the professors seemed to be able to see that something was bothering her, for both Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick asked her concernedly if she was feeling alright.   
  
By the end of the day she was testy and on edge from all the questions that kept being thrown at her. Since when had her feelings become everybody's business, she wondered furiously to herself after she overheard a third year Hufflepuff student commenting to one of her friends on how pale Hermione Granger was looking, and that she had heard that she and Harry Potter had gotten into a fight. And they'd only been back for three days!  
  
"Why don't you keep your nose in your own business for once, instead of in mine," she snapped, causing the younger girl to jump and turn around nervously to see Hermione standing right behind her.  
  
"Hermione..I - "   
  
Hermione didn't give the other girl time to reply, just stalked off towards the Hall for supper. She noticed some of her fellow Gryffindors giving her funny looks as she sat down at the table, and knew that it was because she had snapped at more than a few of them during the day. But for once, she just really didn't care.   
  
At least Harry and Ron seemed to have gotten the idea, they were actually leaving her alone, although how long that was going to last she wasn't sure.   
  
After supper she returned to Gryffindor and at once went up to the room that she shared with Lavendar and Parvati. The two girls had remained down in the Common Room, so Hermione was left alone with her thoughts. Inevitably she found them turning towards Malfoy again, and with a sigh of frustration she opened up her History of Magic textbook, and spent the next hour or so miserably trying to keep her thoughts focused.   
  
At last the hand on her watch pointed to the small D that stood for detention, and Hermione gave a sigh as she closed the thick, heavy textbook. The man on the front of it was snoring away, and Hermione couldn't help but smile. If she was on the cover of that book she'd probably snore too, she thought to herself.   
  
As she passed through the Common Room Harry and Ron caught sight of her and each of them waved tentatively, and she felt guilty as she waved back with a small smile. She really had been too hard on them today, she thought to herself. They were her best friends, after all, it was only natural for them to be concerned about her. She decided that she would talk to them that night when she returned, or at least first thing at breakfast the next day.  
  
The halls of Hogwarts were eerily silent as she made her way towards the Library. The sounds of her shoes tapping on the stone floor seemed to bounce and echo off of the thick walls, and although many of the people in the portraits were already sleeping in their frames, she still felt as though eyes were watching her with scorn.  
  
Just as she was wishing that someone would come along - anyone, even that annoying Hufflepuff girl or Peeves, the prank loving ghost, she felt a pair of hands close about her waist.  
  
She shrieked and then whirled around, her wand out and ready in her hand reflexively.  
  
"Careful where you point that, Granger," Malfoy drawled in amusement as he eyed her wand, which was quivering only inches from his nose. "If McGonagall were to happen along right now, we'll both be in for another two weeks in detention."  
  
"Don't...DO that," she finally hissed, as she struggled to calm her pounding heart.   
  
Seeing the corners of his lips quirking up as he struggled to contain his laughter, she grumbled to herself and then turned back in the direction she had been going.  
  
"You'd better hurry up, Malfoy," she threw over her shoulder. "I don't think Professor McGonagall will be to happy if we're late, either."  
  
She smirked as she heard his foot steps quicken behind her. His long strides made sure that he quickly caught up to her, just as they came to the doors to the Library. He reached out and pulled one open, then smiled at her mockingly.  
  
"Ladies first," he said smoothly.  
  
"Going to stare at my ass as I walk through, Malfoy?" she asked him.   
  
She felt a thrill of triumph when she saw the surprise in his eyes - obviously he hadn't expected her to say something like that at all. Relishing her small triumph, she didn't say anything more, merely walked on past into the library. She smiled to herself, knowing full well that his eyes would definitely be fixed on her.   
  
Draco shook his head as he stepped in onto the carpeted floor of the quiet Library. Granger was walking just slightly ahead of him, and he knew that she had added that little sway of her hips especially for his benefit. He had never seen her walk that way before in his life. But then again, she had done alot of things over the last couple of days that he never would have expected from her, he thought to himself.   
  
The little bitch was too smart for her own good, he thought to himself. He'd have to remember that - obviously she was intelligent enough to realize the real reason behind why some guys held doors open for girls.   
  
McGonagall was already there, standing directly behind the large checkout desk near the front of the room. She looked like she had something rammed up her ass, Draco thought idly as he followed Granger towards the Professor. Whenever he saw her she was always standing perfectly, rigidly, straight.   
  
"We're here, Professor McGonagall," Granger said, and Draco rolled his eyes as he heard her tone of voice.  
  
It was the annoying eager to please, goody goody tone of voice that she used so frequently, and that irritated him to no end. If she was a dog, she'd be wagging her tail right now, he thought in disgust.   
  
"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said with a curt nod. "You are to continue on with your work tonight. I trust I don't need to repeat the instructions?."  
  
She paused for a moment until first Hermione, and then Draco, nodded their heads, before continuing. "Good. You didn't get as far as I hoped you would last night - I can't imagine what you could have been doing that would cause you to take so long. Its only dusting and organizing, after all!! But I trust the two of you will rectify that situation tonight."  
  
With those words, the elderly professor swept out of the Library.   
  
As the large wooden door fell closed with a slight thud behind Professor McGonagall Draco chuckled softly to himself.   
  
Granger turned to face him, an angry look on her face. "Whats so funny?" she asked impatiently.  
  
"I was just thinking that I doubt that McGonagall was ever able to imagine just what we were doing last night that would make us take so long," Draco drawled, his voice filled with amusement.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. It was just like him to think of something like that, she thought to herself. She couldn't help smiling to herself, however. She couldn't imagine Professor McGonagall having those kind of thoughts, either - the elderly Professor looked as though she had never had such thoughts in her life.   
  
Not that she was going to tell Draco that. It wouldn't do for him to think that she actually agreed with him.   
  
She pondered saying something about how is mind was always on such topics, but then as she remembered where their earlier conversation had gotten her, she blushed and decided against it.   
  
"Looks like they left our lovely cleaning supplies here for us," Draco spoke up, interrupting her from her thoughts with a start.  
  
She turned around to see him holding up a handful of cloths, an expresion of distate on his face. It was almost worth having detention to see him looking like that, she thought to herself with a small smile.   
  
"They aren't going to bite you," she told him, amusement clear in her voice.   
  
His eyes narrowed and he scowled at her. "I know that," he snapped.  
  
"From the look on your face you'd think that they had a deadly poison on them or something," she told him, taking them from his hands.  
  
"Who knows what those dirty elves put on them," Draco said with distaste.  
  
She spun around to glare at him angrily. Although her "S.P.E.W" project hadn't had much success in fourth year, she still had a soft spot for the little creatures who did so much of the work around Hogwarts.   
  
"You should be greatful to them, Malfoy," she snapped at him, her cheeks flushed with anger.  
  
"Why should I be grateful?" Draco asked, raising his eyebrows. "They're doing what they were meant to do - there's nothing to be grateful for."  
  
"I can't believe how selfish and self-centered you are," Hermione began her tirade angrily, but then she was cut off when a noise turned her attention away from her Slytherin enemy.  
  
Draco must have heard it too, for he was looking over in the direction of the rows upon rows of bookshelves, where the small noise had come from. The stacks were blanketed in darkness, and Hermione had to strain her eyes as she struggled to see if there was anyone standing in the shadows. She couldn't see anyone, but somehow she knew that there was someone there, however, and she kept staring in that direction.  
  
Then the silence was broken by the sound of a low chuckle emmanating from deep within the stacks of books.  
  
"Whoever's there, come out now," Draco said, his voice filled with arrogance. "Instead of spying on us like you did last night."  
  
The chuckle grew into a laugh, and the soft rustle of robes brushing against the carpeted floor of the Library reached Hermione's ears. As she continued to look into the darkness, she was able to make out the faint outline of a dark figure, slowly moving towards them from the depth of the Library.   
  
She couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive as the person moved forward. Stop worrying, Hermione, she scolded herself. After all the things you've faced since you came here to Hogwarts, surely you can handle a mere person. She snuck a glance at Draco, but to her chagrin she saw that he was standing with his hands on his hips, staring scornfully into the shadows, without a trace of apprehension or worry on his handsome face.  
  
Pausing just out of reach of the lights that illuminated the main entrance area of th Library, the figure stood still for a moment and then spoke.   
  
"I must thank the two of you." it said. The voice was filled with gleeful amusement."I never would have expected Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy to be caught letting their hormones get the better of themselves...at least not with each other. But I really am grateful that the two of you gave in to your baser instincts."  
  
Hermione knew that she was blushing, but she felt her anger rising. Why wouldn't the person come forward, she thought.   
  
Draco must have had the same thought, for he spoke up, anger evident in his voice.   
  
"Why don't you just come forward so that we can see you? Or are you too frightened? You don't honestly expect that your little blackmailing plan will work, do - "  
  
Draco's voice trailed off as the figure moved forward, and he and Hermione found themselves staring at a figure that was very familiar to both of them - very familiar indeed.   
  
She and Draco both spoke at the same time, their disbelief filling their voices.  
  
  
"Argus Filch?!?" 


	9. Secrets Of The Past

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter  
  
***********************************************************************  
Characters: Hermione/Draco  
  
Rating: R  
  
  
Chapter 9  
  
Hermione stared at the man before her. Her mind was filled with complete and total surprise. She honestly didn't think that she could have been more shocked. Never in a million years would she have suspected that Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts, was the one behind the blackmail letters.   
  
She stared at him in distate. He was dressed in faded grey robes that looked as though they hadn't been washed in quite awhile. His dark brown hair, which had streaks of grey in it, was greasy and fell about his face in limp dark strands. His eyes were a faded, mottled brown colour, and his face was sallow and yellowish. His thin lips were twisted into a cruel smile.  
  
She had never liked him, ever since she had first seen him standing in the Great Hall the day she and the other first years had been sorted. At home, at the public Muggle schools that she had attended, she hadn't minded the custodial staff. They had been pleasant and actually great people, despite the fact that they spent their time cleaning up after students all day. Hermione had actually come to admire a few of them, for she knew that they put up with things that they shouldn't have to. That was part of the reason why she had felt so much empathy towards the little house elves.   
  
Argus Filch, however, was a different matter. To Hermione, he seemed to take far too much pleasure in his duties of looking after the halls of Hogwarts and patrolling to catch any wayward students. Everyone knew that it was only Dumbledore's presence that held him back from using the very brutal forms of punishment that had once been the standard at Hogwarts. She, Ron and Harry had run into trouble with him quite a few times over the past five years.   
  
But although she knew that Filch had regarded them as troublemakers, and had appeared eager to see them in detention as often as possible, she had never considered any of them to be a special target. He seemed to have it out for all the students in general.   
  
Why exactly would he be wanting to blackmail us, she wondered to herself. After all, he was there to make sure that the rules of Hogwarts were followed, why would he be blackmailing the students? If that wasn't breaking the rules, she didn't know what was. And not only that, she knew that he and Draco had worked together in the past. In first year, Draco had led Harry to believe that they were going to have a wizards duel, but in fact he had laid a trap for her friend by telling Filch they were going to be out after dark.   
  
She glanced over at Draco to see that he looked just as perplexed as she did. Evidently he had no idea as to why he had been included in on this, either.  
  
"What the hell are you playing at, Filch?"  
  
Draco spoke up even as Hermione was looking over at him. "Trying to get your kicks by enjoying some voyeurism?"  
  
Hermione shuddered as the full meaning of Filch being the one behind those letters sank in. That meant that it had been him lurking in the shelves the night before, watching she and Draco together...she blushed as she realized just how much he must have seen. He had to have been there for quite awhile, judging by the nature of the photographs. Disgust rippled through her at the thought of the greasy, disgusting man seeing her body.  
  
"I must admit, the sight of the two of you enjoying yourselves so...thoroughly," Filch replied, silky mockery in his voice, "Was indeed quite a pleasure."  
  
His eyes rested on Hermione, and she crossed her arms protectively in front of her as he leered at her. He had that same hungry look in his eyes that she had gotten from Draco earlier. But unlike when the reaction of liquid heat that she got from Draco's vivid blue stare, when Filch's eyes rested on her like that she had an urge to go scrub herself in the hottest shower she could stand.   
  
"Especially you, Miss Granger," he said with a coarse chuckle. "Who knew what you were hiding behind that know it all exterior? I really must commend you, Mr Malfoy," the caretaker continued, finally turning away from Hermione to look at the Slytherin student. "You seem to bring out something in her that not many others can."  
  
Hermione closed her eyes, anger building inside her. She didn't dare look at Malfoy, she was sure that he was thoroughly enjoying himself.   
  
Draco stared in disgust at Filch. He had known that the man was a slimy bastard, he had actually worked with him in the past, trying to get back at Potter. But he had eventually stopped associating with the man. There was just something about him...something disturbed...in fact, Draco had actually wondered if he was quite mad.  
  
"But while I thoroughly enjoyed watching the two of you together," Filch continued, "Your little tryst will actually serve me quite well, other than pleasing my eyes. I shall finally be able to get my revenge on Harry Potter."  
  
For a moment Draco and Hermione both stared at Filch. Neither of them had expected him to be the one blackmailing them, and they certainly hadn't expected anything like this.  
  
"I see your surprise," Filch said. He chuckled after he spoke. "But of course, there are few here at Hogwarts who care to remember me, or the things that happened in my past."  
  
"I wonder why," Hermione said angrily, finally able to speak. She tossed her hair over her shoulder as she glared at the man.  
  
"Oh yes, Miss Granger," Filch continued, his voice filled with deep bitterness. "I have heard that tone of voice from many others besides you. But none of them know my story - they just presume things. So let me tell you a story that not many have heard, my dear little pawns. It is only fitting that the two of you understand just why I was so delighted to discover you together."  
  
Hermione saw Draco stiffen out of the corner of her eye, even as her own stomach clenched in anger at the way Filch was talking to them. She knew that as a Malfoy, Draco wouldn't take kindly to being referred to as a pawn. But it would do his ego some good, she thought maliciously to herself, before her attention was drawn back to the caretaker.  
  
"I doubt that either of you are aware of the fact that I attended school here with your parents. Well, not yours, Miss Granger, obviously," Filch said, a smirk covering his face. "I guess they couldn't have gone to Hogwarts, now could they have, being such delightful little Muggles as they were."  
  
"I've heard it all before," Hermione said icily. "I feel no shame in being Muggle-born, so just tell us your little story, Filch."  
  
"Such a fiery temperment," Filch crooned. "Must be one of the things that you enjoy about her," he said, directing his statement to Draco. "From what I saw last night, she's quite the wildcat in bed, too."  
  
Hermione went pale with anger and embarassment at his words, and she was unable to think of anything to say.   
  
"Continue on," she heard Draco say, and Hermione thought she heard disgust and an icy anger in his voice. She shook her head to herself, moving her arms lower to her stomach. She must be hearing things, after all, he was probably quite enjoying this humiliation of her.  
  
"As I was saying," Filch said, moving over to a nearby table and seating himself in one of the chairs. "I attended Hogwarts at the same time as your father, Mr Malfoy, and also at the time of the Fabulous Five - James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and of course, Lily Evans."  
  
Filch's voice, which had been filled with bitterness, derision and anger as he spoke the names, softened slightly as he spoke the name of Harry's mother.  
  
"I doubt you are aware of my family origins, but my mother was a muggle, but my father had magic in him. He was killed shortly after I was born by a rogue dragon, leaving my mother to raise me on her own. She was so proud when she found out that I did have magic in me - even though she had lost her husband, she felt that she still had something of him in me, her only son."  
  
Filch paused, then continued on.   
  
"And so, I came to Hogwarts, very eager indeed. After all, it was here," he gestured with a hand lined with dirt at his surroundings. "That my father had learned all that he had known. I wanted to learn all that I could, and prove myself as his son."  
  
"How foolish I was," Filch said with a growl. "I got along alright, but it wasn't long before I could tell that I was barely a magician at all. I don't even know how I scraped by in classes, but somehow I made it until my last year. Then one day Dumbledore called me into his office. He told me that he was quite aware of my struggles, and so he thought it would be best for me to have a tutor."  
  
"He thought that one of my friends would be best," Filch said with a smirk. "So he was left to choose between James Potter or Lily Evans."  
  
Here he paused, obviously enjoying the looks of shock that spread across Hermione and Draco's faces.   
  
"Ahh, yes," he murmered. "It has been well concealed, our friendship. Of course, I was much closer to Remus and Sirius, but James and Lily knew me fairly well. Not that any of them would admit to the fact today, of course."  
  
"James and Lily were Head Boy and Girl that year, as I am sure you are both aware," Filch said, continuing. "Both of them would be fairly busy, but James, as the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and Seeker, did not have any time to spare. Lily, however, was an excellent student and Dumbledore chose her to assist me."  
  
"And so, I went to my tutoring session with some degree of enthusiasm. It was embarassing at first, as it didn't take much to realize just how poor my magical skills were, but Lily was quite nice about it. And I preferred that she know over anyone else."  
  
"Then one day," Filch's voice grew softer. "My temper got the best of me. I was having troubles with one of the spells, and Lily was doing her best to help me. But I was too frustrated, and ended up yelling at her. She got mad and yelled right back at me, telling me that she cared about me and wanted to help, but that she was beginning to wonder why she bothered. The she stormed out."  
  
"I was in shock, but went after her. She was very angry at me. Oh was she ever," Filch had a smile on his face as he said this. "She was quite beautiful when she was angry, Lily was. And also inclined to say things that she ordinarily wouldn't say. Much to my surprise, in the middle of telling me what a jerk I was and how she wished Dumbledore hadn't assigned her to me, she also said that she loved me."  
  
"Oh yes, every word is true, Miss Granger," the caretaker said, noting the skeptical look on Hermione's face. "Trust me, Dumbledore himself would be able to tell you."  
  
"To continue, after I found out, I was on top of the world. Lily Evans loved me! Not James, the strong, quick witted Quidditch Captain. Not Sirius Black, who was always making her laugh with his pranks. No, she loved me."  
  
The next few months," Filch continued in a soft voice, "Were the happiest in my life."  
  
He stopped, and for a moment the Library was very quiet. Hermione could hear the rustling sounds coming from the Restricted Section, but her attention was fixed on Filch. Obviously something had happened, because Lily Evans had married James Potter, not Argus Filch.  
  
"Of course, I should have known that it was too good to be true," Filch continued, bitterness once again creeping into his voice. "Lily and I started fighting more after Christmas. She didn't seem to have as much time for me, she was spending more and more time with James. Then one day he and I got into a fight when he cracked a joke about a potion that I mixed wrong."  
  
"I thought that Lily would be angry at him," Filch said. "But when I looked at her, she was actually laughing. I was furious, and we didn't speak for two weeks after that. I was hurt, and I didn't listen to her when she tried to talk to me about it."  
  
Filch was now stroking the back of his cat, Mrs Norris, who had jumped up to sit on the smooth polished wood of the table her master was sitting at.   
  
"That was where I went wrong, wasn't it, my sweet," Filch said to his cat, his voice soft and contemplative. "By the time I went to her, she was sad and angry. I tried to explain, but she wouldn't listen to me. She said that if I had really loved her, I would have listened to her when she tried to explain. She told me that she thought it would be better if we didn't see each other anymore."  
  
"I thought that we still had a chance, but only a month later I found out I was wrong. I found Lily with one of my friends - and of course, who else would it be but James?"   
  
Filch's voice was now filled with angry bitterness, and Hermione nodded her head to herself. She could see now, the pieces of the puzzle starting to come together.  
  
"But thats not all, Miss Granger," Filch said to Hermione, startling her out of her thoughts. "Oh yes, thats part of the reason why I dislike the Potter name. But I loved Lily, and I wanted her to be happy, even if that meant she couldn't be with me."  
  
Draco shook his head in disgust. It figures that Argus would be a weak man, he thought to himself. Oh, when he was younger he had believed in the power of love, but as he grew older and saw how his father treated his mother, he had slowly come to believe that love was actually one of two things. Either the woman was a possession for the man, or vice versa, or all that held them together was sex. The Weasley family was probably a good example of the second one, Draco had always thought.   
  
"We graduated from Hogwarts a few months later," Filch said, breaking into Draco's train of thought. "I was no longer accepted into their little group. Lily had been our darling, and with her mad at me, the others distanced themselves from associating with me. James, of course, couldn't stand the sight of me, nor I him.  
  
"I didn't see Lily again for quite awhile, I heard that she and James got married a few years after we left school. The next time I saw her was when You-Know-Who was making himself known. I was in Diagon Alley, and I ran into her in one of the shops. I wasn't planning on talking to her, but I blurted something out when I saw that she was pregnant."  
  
"With Harry?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself.   
  
Both Draco and Filch looked at her in surprise, and Filch laughed in derision.   
  
"Of course with Harry, Granger," he said. "My, my, you really are proving your intelligence tonight, aren't you."  
  
Hermione blushed with anger, and Filch smirked.   
  
"I wondered how she could be so foolish," the caretaker said. Anger was evident on his face. "Everyone knew that James and Lily were two of the best wizards in years to come out of Hogwarts, and any child of theirs could be considered a threat to the Dark Lord. I asked her how she could put herself in such danger, but she said that she wanted a child, and the baby would be evidence of the love that she and James had for each other."  
  
"Then the little brat was born."   
  
The words were spat in disgust.  
  
"When I saw her again, she had him with her, and I had never seen her look more happy." Filch's voice had a sad tinge to it. "I was glad that Lily was happy...but I had heard that You-Know-Who wanted to wipe out all the strong wizards who were opposing him, and I was worried."  
  
"By this time I was working at Hogwarts," Filch said by way of explanation, answering the unspoken question both Hermione and Draco had as to just how he knew this.  
  
"Dumbledore had hired me on as caretaker - he felt sorry for me."  
  
Surprisingly, Filch's voice was not bitter as he spoke these words, merely calm.  
  
"He's not bad," the caretaker said with a shrug. "He's never been anything but nice to me. One day I heard him talking to McGonagall about some of the recent attacks, and when I saw Lily, I told her all about it. I told her she should take Harry to Hogwarts and let him be looked after there, so that she wouldn't be in danger."  
  
"But of course," Filch's voice was sad as he spoke. "She didn't listen to me. She told me she was happy with James, and that nobody was going to seperate her from her husband or from Harry."  
  
"That was what killed her," Filch got up, and paced back and forth in anger, regarding Draco and Hermione as he did so. "Her love of James and that little squalling brat. They're the ones that got her killed! She didn't deserve to die - she was beautiful, funny and smart...she could have done so much with her life. Instead, it all ended because she died trying to save that near sighted, stupid "Boy Who Lived"."  
  
"Everyone calls him that," Filch spat. "The Boy Who Lived. But he sure as hell wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for Lily. It was just like her too, to sacrifice herself like that. I prayed that those stupid Muggle relatives of his would somehow kill him off, but then he showed up here in first year. Looking exactly like his father, too...except he has Lily's eyes..."  
  
Filch's voice trailed off, and the Library plunged into silence. Draco and Hermione stood staring at the caretaker as he gazed off into the darkness the blanketed the tall shelves of books, each filled with their own thoughts.  
  
Then he swung about to face them, greasy hair swinging limply against his face with the movement of his body.   
  
"I made a promise to myself that day, when I stood in the Great Hall and saw him go up to the Sorting Hat, and get put into the very house that Lily herself had lived in," he spoke softly. "I swore that somehow, someday, I would humiliate Harry Potter. I would make him suffer, because its all his fault that my Lily is gone. She died to save HIM, when she should be here."  
  
Filch paused once again, his brown eyes glowing feverishly as he stared at the two students in front of him. Hermione was frozen in shock. Even as her mind scrambled wildly to absorb all that she had just heard, she wondered what Draco thought of all this. He hadn't spoken in quite awhile.  
  
"And I will not break that promise," Filch said in a voice that was deadly quiet. "I will see him fall from his pedestal. And you two," he continued in a deadly croon. "Oh yes, you two shall help me." 


	10. Plot of a Twisted Mind

A/N: This another one of the "revamped" chapters. As I said before, basically all I am doing is cutting out the other parts. I think that the plot still flows (thank god I actually had a plot, lol). I will soon be adding a new chapter, hopefully, once I get this posted. ^_^ Please r&r and let me know what you think!  
  
Oh, and btw...the screwed up numbers on some of these chapters mean that thats the number that they previously had. There's less chapters now because I cut out some of the graphic ones. ^^;;  
  
Kiara  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry or any of his friends. If only I did ^^;;;  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 10  
  
"You must be mad," Draco finally spoke, breaking the silence. He stared at the man before him in disbelief.   
  
"Who knows, maybe I am," Filch replied. He smiled once again, but to Hermione it seemed more as if the man was baring his teeth at them.  
  
"Oh come on, Mr Malfoy," Filch spoke once again. "Everyone knows that the two of you hate each other, I would think that you would be quite willing to join in on any plan to bring Harry Potter down. In fact, I can't think of a reason why you wouldn't help me."  
  
"But no matter," the caretaker said with a shrug. "You will play your part whether it is of your own free will or not. If you do not agree to assist me, then an owl will be sent to your loving father. I'm sure that he would be very interested in some photographs of his only son and a certain Mudblood."  
  
Draco's jaw tightened in anger. It wasn't a case of not wanting to bring Potter down, as Filch seemed to be thinking. No, Draco still hated the Gryffindor Golden Boy just as much as he had all the other years. But this was a far different situation than the one that Draco would like. He was the one who was supposed to oversee the humiliation of Harry Potter, not some half mad old caretaker who was practically a squib.   
  
And although Filch seemed to think that Draco was afraid of his father, that certainly wasn't the case. He knew that when it came right down to it, he could handle his father. Lucius Malfoy had gotten too used to being Voldemort's little pet. If there was anything that Draco knew, it was that assumptions and relaxing your guard could get you into trouble quicker than anything else.   
  
But Lucius Malfoy would find some way to blame his son's latest indiscretions and mistakes on his mother. Whenever something went wrong in his life, Draco's father had always found some way to blame it either or Draco, or his wife, or anybody - just as long as it was somebody other than himself. It was his favourite subject - blaming others for what he himself had done. And while Draco hated his father with a passion, he loved his mother. Not that he would let anyone other than her know that, of course. As far as the world was concerned, Draco Malfoy loved one person and one person only - himself.   
  
He was interrupted out of his thoughts by the sound of Filch laughing. It was more of a cackle, really, the rather shrill sound filling the still air of the library and grating on Draco's nerves.  
  
"Its rather funny, really," Filch said, regarding Draco and Hermione closely, amusement sparkling in his murky eyes. "Two of the people who admire Potter the most will help me bring him down. Oh, not you, Mr Malfoy," the caretaker said, seeing the disbelief on Draco's face. "Mr Creevey. I caught him the other day in the corridors when he should have been in class. He was late because he was trying to get a picture of Peeves, he told me. Stupid kid thought that that made it ok for him to be out in the halls. I took his camera away, naturally. But who would have known that it would prove so useful?"  
  
Hermione shook her head to herself. That answered the question that had been lingering at the edge of her thoughts. Filch was hardly the type to be carrying around a camera as he prowled the halls of Hogwarts, looking for rulebreakers. Poor Colin, she thought. The fifth year student no longer followed Harry around the way he had in first year, but she knew that he still admired her friend very much. The knowledge that his camera had brought any harm to his hero would break his heart, no doubt.   
  
"And what makes you think that I'll go along with this?" she finally asked, narrowing her eyes as she stared at Filch. "Harry's my friend, I'm willing to take the consequences of what Malfoy and I did if I can protect him."  
  
"I'm sure that you would, Miss Granger," Filch said slowly. "You are the noble type."  
  
The words were spoken with a bit of a sneer.   
  
"But I doubt that you would want to put your loving parents into any danger."  
  
Filch paused a moment, staring at Hermione closely before continuing softly. "And you will indeed put them into danger if you do not comply with what I am asking. Lucius Malfoy and his fellow Death Eaters have a nasty history of doing rather evil things to people that they perceive as getting in their way...and that extends to their families as well."  
  
Hermione felt the blood drain from her face as she took in the meaning of the caretaker's words. She knew herself that Lucius Malfoy was a cruel man that had instigated and taken part in despicable acts in the past. And her parents were muggles, without a trace of magic at all, content to be dentists. They would have no way to defend themselves against Draco's father or any other Death Eaters.   
  
They were so proud of her and her accomplishments here at Hogwarts. The Grangers had been shocked when they learned when their daughter, also their only child, possessed magical powers. But they had regrouped and told Hermione that she must go to Hogwarts, and that they were sure she would do wonderfully there. She knew that the thought that their daughter's schooling would threaten their safety had never crossed their minds.   
  
And as she took note of the cruel smirk that was spread across the greasy, sallow face of the man in front of her, there was no doubt in her mind. Argus Filch was perfectly aware of that fact, and he was counting on it to ensure that Hermione would do whatever he asked her to.   
  
Hermione had to swallow back the lump in her throat before she was able to speak.   
  
"It seems that I have no choice," she said bitterly, staring at Filch, refusing to let him sense the emotions that were swirling around inside her.   
  
"No, you don't, Miss Granger," Filch said, the smirk that was plastered across his face growing larger. "I knew that you would come to understand eventually. Everyone here at Hogwarts knows that you are very intelligent."  
  
Hermione made no reply, merely glared at the caretaker before turning to stare off into the deep shadows that lay between the shelves.   
  
"Now that I have ensured your cooperation," Filch said greasily, "It is just a matter of time - time is the key ingredient. I will come and find you when I have finished the plan, and I trust that you will be ready and willing when that day comes."  
  
For a moment silence fell once again. Hermione refused to look at either Filch or Malfoy, staring determinedly off into the blackness. Draco, in the meantime, did not take his eyes off of the caretaker. Through his piercing blue gaze he made it clear to the other man that if anything ever went wrong for Filch, Draco Malfoy would make very sure that the caretaker would regret it deeply.   
  
Finally Filch chuckled, the shrill, grating sound breaking the silence. "Alright then, I shall leave the two of you to your detention together. I'm sure that if you get tired of cleaning and organizing you will no doubt find...something to occupy yourselves."  
  
Hermione swung around to say something to the man, but he was already vanishing off into the depths of the Library, Mrs Norris trotting at his heels. She listened for a moment to see if she could tell where he was heading, but after his footsteps died away the only sounds she could hear were that of the books rustling.   
  
"Well, isn't this great," she finally spoke. She swung to face Draco once again, and glared at him. "We'll be able to take care of it, you said. Anybody that could have taken that picture will be easy to control. Well, what happened to that, Malfoy?"  
  
"You know as well as I do that the likelihood of Filch being able to blackmail us on any other occasion is slim," Draco snapped, turning his head to look at her. "If that stupid Creevey hadn't got his camera taken away, Filch wouldn't be able to do a damn thing to us."  
  
"Its not Colin's fault," Hermione blazed. "It figures. You would try to blame this on someone who really doesn't have any part in it. Its not his fault, we were the ones who were doing something that we shouldn't have been."  
  
"Actually, if it were any other students," Draco drawled, pinning Hermione with his intense gaze, "Filch wouldn't have bothered with camera, except to take a few pictures for his own enjoyment. Its not against the rules for students to have sex, as far as I know. Unless you've come across such a rule in your vast reading experience?"  
  
Hermione blushed angrily at the mocking tone in his voice. "No," she admitted. "I haven't come across anything like that."  
  
"Exactly," Draco said. "As long as we aren't hurting each other or forcing one another to do something, the Professors and Dumbledore don't care what we do in our spare time. I doubt the thought of what we might be doing even crossed the minds of half of them. And for most of the students here, it wouldn't even matter. Unfortunately, however, for you and I it is a different case. Purely because of who we are."  
  
"Alright, I get the idea," Hermione snapped. "But that still doesn't answer my question - what are we going to do about it?"  
  
Draco shrugged his shoulders. "What can we do?" he asked. "Filch isn't going to hurt Potter, he'd never go that far. He just wants to humiliate him or bring him down from that shiny golden pedestal that everyone insists on putting him on. So we have no choice but to go along with his little plan."  
  
"I would have thought that you'd be able to come up with something to get us out of this," Hermione said. "You're a Malfoy, you must be used to getting yourself out of trouble."  
  
Draco glared at Hermione, then turned and picked up the dust rag that he had dropped earlier from the table, holding it gingerly between thumb and index finger.   
  
"We might as well get started," he said. "McGonagall expects us to get further tonight, and talking about Filch isn't going to change matters. I don't know about you, but two weeks of detention at the beginning of the year is enough for me."  
  
As reluctant as she was to admit it, Hermione knew that Malfoy was right. She had enough to worry about as it was, without having to worry about Professor McGonagall getting angry at her because she wasn't completing her detention properly. She didn't grace Malfoy with a reply however, merely moved over to the stacks and began running her fingers along the spines of the books, checking to make sure that they were all in order.  
  
Draco watched her for a minute, his lips curved slightly in amusement, then moved over to the shelves himself. He sighed, then began running the cloth in his hand along the polished wood that supported the heavy books.   
  
Time seemed to pass slowly for both of them. Hermione continued to examine the books closely, making sure that all was in order. Slowly, however, all that had occured began to sink in, and her fingers began to tremble. One of the heavy books nearly slipped out of her suddenly numb fingers, and she had to fumble to stop it from crashing to the floor. As she slid it into place, she sighed, her thoughts swimming.  
  
She had been in danger before, of course. Being friends with Harry Potter seemed to ensure that. But never had danger really threatened her directly, up until this point. And never before had the safety of her family been threatened, either. And if she wanted to keep her family safe, she would have to betray the one person who had been through so much before, the one person who the majority of the wizarding world admired. And not only that, but Harry was her very best friend. He had always been there for her before, same as Ron had. Her eyes began to blur with tears, and she found it difficult to see the spines of the books through her watery vision.   
  
As Draco ran the cloth along the shelves, his mind too, was filled with thoughts of what had occured here tonight. He had originally thought that whoever it was that was blackmailing him and Granger would come, they would put him in his place and then scare him off in disgrace. He would then seduce Granger with the sexual tension between them, and enjoy another session of breathtaking sex before going back to Slytherin House for the night.   
  
But now...now he was facing something else entirely. He did not like the thought of having to do what Filch said at all. But even more than that, he hated the idea of his mother being in danger. He knew that she faced a certain stigma, being the wife of Lucius Malfoy. Many other witches didn't want to have anything to do with her because of her husband's association with Voldemort, and the ones that followed the Dark Lord themselves did not view her reluctance to assist her husband more fully with kind eyes.   
  
As a result of this, Narcissa Malfoy spent much of her time cooped up in the large mansion that her husband owned, doing her best not to irk him. She looked forward to seeing Draco every summer, and he knew that the owls that he sent home when he was at school were what she lived for. It was hardly a good life. And now this on top of it? The last thing that Draco wanted to do was put his mother in any more torment. True, Lucius Malfoy would never physically harm his wife - the repurcussions would be to great. But he was a cruel man, and mental torture and abuse was an easy thing to cover when the person didn't venture out of the house very often and had a son to worry about.   
  
Draco was interuppted from his thoughts by a soft sound coming from behind him. He froze in the act of sweeping the cloth along the front of another shelf, listening intently. The soft sound came again, and he realized with shock that it was the sound of Granger crying.   
  
"Granger?" he said, turning around.   
  
He sighed impatiently when he saw her leaning up against the shelf directly behind him. What the hell did she expect him to do, he wondered to himself. Comfort her? Not bloody likely. If he didn't know that she was probably worried about her family, he actually wouldn't give a shit at all. She was everyone's little pet, if it was just her, he was sure she would find some way to get herself out of this mess.   
  
"Look, as long as you do what Filch says, your precious little Muggle family will be safe," he pointed out. "So stop sobbing."  
  
"I know what I have to do," Hermione replied, swinging around and glaring at him. A few shimmering tears were making their way down her skin. "But that doesn't mean that I like it at all."  
  
"You think I like this?" Draco asked incredulously.   
  
"Why wouldn't you?" she snapped. "You've always wanted to have your chance to hurt Harry, and now here it is, being handed to you on a silver platter! And not only that, I have to help you do it! You must be absolutely thrilled," she finished bitterly.  
  
"Ordinarily I would be," Draco drawled. "The chance to see Potter brought down is too good to pass up. But I do not like being dragged into this by that sniveling, cowardly squib that Dumbledore made the mistake of keeping on here."  
  
"Of course, you would call him that," Hermione said with a bitter laugh. "Anyone who doesn't measure up to your oh so high standards. He's not a pureblood, is he? The nerve of him, trying to threaten the high and mighty Draco Malfoy."  
  
"What the hell are you doing, Granger?" Draco yelled, incredulous. "Have you lost your bloody mind? You're practically defending Filch!"  
  
"Shut up!" Hermione yelled. "Just shut up, Malfoy!"  
  
Then before Draco could reply, she crossed over and yanking his head down to hers, pressed a fiery kiss to his lips. For a moment he was too surprised to reply, and he remained still as she moved her lips over his frantically, nipping at his bottom lip slightly and then slipping her tongue through to silkily stroke along his. Then reality set in and he pushed her away from him and stared down into her eyes, which were still glistening from her recent tears.   
  
"What in bloody hell are you doing, Granger?" he asked, studying her face closely.   
  
"Just shut up," she repeated. "Don't make me think about this right now, Malfoy," she finished quietly before pressing her lips to his again.   
  
Draco pondered briefly on pushing her away once again, but then as her tongue slipped in to swirl around his, he found himself wondering why he was resisting this. There was no question as to who had started this, who wanted this, and why should he deny himself what he wanted when it was offered to him? With that thought running through his mind, he returned her heated kiss with passion.   
  
Their tongues tangled desperately as Hermione slipped her hand up to run through Malfoy's blonde hair. Somewhere in the back of her head a small voice of sanity was telling her that later she was going to regret this very much indeed, but right now she didn't care. All she wanted was to not have to think about all that had happened. With that thought, she pushed away the little voice of reason and tugged at Draco's shirt. 


	11. Where To Go From Here

A/N: Ok, I believe this is a semi new chapter...its been available on my website, but not on here, I don't think. I hope that you enjoy it, and hopefully I will have Chapter 12 out soon. Please read and review ^_^   
  
Rating: R   
  
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Chapter 11  
  
Draco came back to his senses to find himself intertwined with Granger, whose head had fallen back to rest against the thick books behind her. A smile quirked his lips as he realized that in their eagerness they hadn't even bothered to find a table or even a chair. Her legs loosened slightly from where they were clenched around his waist, and he lowered her so that she was standing once more.   
  
Her eyes fluttered open as her feet came in to contact with the floor, and red tinged her cheeks as she realized that her legs were still looped loosely around his. She moved back slightly, brushing her tousled hair back to her face.   
  
For a moment the two of them just stared at each other. Both of them still had their shirts hanging open, and Draco's pants were still half up, half down. Around them the library was very quiet, and as he gazed at her, Draco knew somehow that Granger was silently praying that he wouldn't mention how she had practically thrown herself at him.  
  
Then a grin spread across his face, and he stooped to pick up something that was lying on the floor next to her feet. As he handed Granger her panties, Draco raised his eyebrow slightly.   
  
"This seems to be becoming a habit with us," he said softly.   
  
He watched in delight as she coloured with embarassment and jerked them from his grasp. It was obvious that she remembered clearly how he had also given them to her at the end of her last encounter, when she had almost rushed out and left them behind. Realizing her state of undress, she hastily fumbled behind her, refastening her bra and then fiddling with her buttons.   
  
Draco watched her with amusement for a minute, then pulled his pants up over his slim hips. After doing up the fly and refastening them, he began working on the buttons of his shirt. He didn't take his eyes off of Granger, enjoying the sight of her skin before it was concealed from his eyes once again. She then began trying to smooth her hair, which was still tousled, back from her face.   
  
"You won't be able to run away so quickly this time," he said finally.  
  
Her head jerked up and she stared at him. Her brown eyes were slightly larger than usual, her fair skin still flushed in the aftermath of what they had shared. Brown hair that gleamed slightly in the faint light coming from the lights of the library, fell in soft tousled waves around her, framing her face.  
  
Did she have to look so damn sexy all the time, Draco wondered to himself. Usually after he had slept with a girl the appeal that she held for him physically diminished considerably. More than one girl had observed a sharp decline in Draco's attentions to her after they had had sex for the first time. He was aware that this left them confused and upset, but frankly he didn't care. If they didn't appeal to him, why should he continue to waste his time with them? The majority of them didn't appeal to him at all mentally, and once their bodies didn't stir him, he wasn't going to stick around. He had better things to do. Or people, for that matter.   
  
But now, as he stared down at Granger, who looked as if irritation was setting in as she realized what he had meant by his statement, he was facing something new. He was still attracted to her. Attraction wasn't quite the word, he corrected himself. He wanted her, plain and simple. If he didn't think that it would be a waste of time to try and coax her back out of her perfect white blouse, he'd be doing everything in his power to have those long legs of hers clamped around his waist once again.   
  
"What do you mean by that?" she finally replied, tossing back her hair from her shoulders as she spoke, obviously giving up on smoothing it down.   
  
"I mean," Draco said slowly, "That this time you can't go running back to your house like last night. We've still got awhile to spend here with your beloved books," he finished mockingly, gesturing at the watch that was still fastened around her slender wrist.   
  
Hermione's mind raced as she glanced down at her watch. Sure enough, Malfoy was right - they had another good three quarters of an hour to spend in the library before they could leave and not risk getting detention from McGonagall.   
  
"Fuck," she muttered, then her head shot up just in time to see a delighted smirk spreading across Malfoy's face.   
  
What was wrong with her, she wondered desperately. First she threatened Malfoy with her wand, then she had sex with him during detention. Then after they were both blackmailed as the result of that, she proceeded to practically throw herself on him in the middle of an argument!! And now here she was swearing, when she was well known for reprimanding the other students when they cursed.   
  
"Look, just...dust the shelves, ok Malfoy?" she finally said quietly, lifting her hand to rub her forehead as she did so. She could feel a headache beginning to build behind her temples.   
  
"Of course," he replied just as softly.   
  
He turned to the shelves opposite to where she was standing, scooping up the grey dusting cloth and running it across the polished wood of the shelf. Hermione watched him for a moment, scarcely able to believe that he was letting her off so easily.  
  
Then, "I'll just continue with what I was doing before you....got other ideas," Malfoy added. The amusement and delight could be clearly heard in his deep voice.   
  
Hermione turned to face the shelves directly behind her and for a moment allowed her forehead to rest upon one of the thick bindings of the old magical tomes.   
  
Lifting her head, she ran her gaze along the spines of the books. As she forced her mind to take in the letters and numbers written on each book, one thought ran through her head.   
  
Things couldn't get any worse.   
  
But then again, she had thought that once before. And look where that had lead her.   
  
The next day dawned bright and beautiful at Hogwarts. It was one of those warm, sunny, gorgeous fall days that most people treasure, knowing that all too soon the cold weather of fall and winter will sweep in from the north. The warm morning sun crept across the vast green lawns that surrounded Hogwarts, creeping up the old stone walls to shine in the window of one of the dormitories.  
  
Hermione was roused out of her deep, thankfully dreamless sleep by the touch of warm morning sunlight on her eyelids. She opened her eyes slowly, squinting for a few minutes against the piercing rays of the sun. Then she sat up in her warm bed, staring out of the window with a smile on her face. The sky was a beautiful, clear blue, with just a few traces of puffy white clouds. Hermione loved days like this.   
  
Then in a sudden rush, the events of the day before came flooding back into her mind. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, her head falling back. After a moment she opened her eyes once again, staring up at the canopy of her bed. No amount of wishing was going to make what had happened go away, it appeared. She flopped back down on to her pillows with a deep sigh.   
  
"Hermione?" a soft voice came from the other side of the bed, where the hangings were still pulled closed.   
  
Hermione reached over and pulled the open to find Lavendar standing at the side of her bed.   
  
"You're not up yet?" the other girl asked in surprise. "You're going to miss breakfast if you don't hurry up, you know. Parvati and I already ate."  
  
Hermione groaned before hopping out of bed.   
  
"Accio uniform!" she called hastily, then groaned as her uniform came zooming toward her. She had many different sets, and they were all flying towards her. She grumbled in frustration as they fell into a heap on her bed, then dug through and found what she had been planning to wear that day. She began pulling it on, glaring at Lavendar, who was watching her in amusement. As she toppled over onto the bed while struggling to pull on the ridiculously high socks they were forced to wear, Hermione hoped desperately that the rest of the day would go peacefully.   
  
It was with an increased awareness that Draco watched Hermione Granger hurry into Potions, accompanied by Potter and Weasley, as usual. He had seen her come into breakfast late that morning. Pansy Parkinson had also noticed, wondering aloud in her shrill voice if Granger had already started studying, and had overslept. Her feeble attempt to make the other Slytherins laugh had failed miserably, Draco alone had got a small smile on his face.   
  
He hadn't found Pansy's joke funny for the reasons she hoped, however. No, Draco had found the joke amusing because he knew that if Granger was tired, it was certainly not from studying too much. He wouldn't be surprised if she was tired. He doubted that Granger was used to having the safety of her precious Muggle parents threatened and then having passionate sex with the son of the man who could hurt those same parents very severely - all in the same day. Such activities would make anyone tired. And Draco actually rather liked the idea that he was part of the reason Granger wasn't getting much sleep.  
  
Granger wasn't wearing her robes, no doubt because of how warm it was. Even down in the dungeons, which were usually cooler than the rest of the castle, it was really too warm to be wearing heavy robes like the ones the students all had. Her long slender legs were bare underneath her skirt, and the prim blouse that she was wearing only served to cling to every curve she had. Looking around, Draco noted with amusement that he was not the only male in the dungeons that day to be noticing Granger.  
  
Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas were both watching Hermione admiringly from their desks. Weasley, Draco noticed, had fallen back behind his best friend just far enough to get a good view from behind. He smirked to himself. Well, the Gryffindor guys could sit and stare all they liked, but he was certain that they would never know Granger the way he did. He knew more about every inch of her sexy body than they ever would, and he seriously doubted that any of them would ever feel those long legs that they were ogling clamped around their waists the way he had only the night before.   
  
He noticed Granger looking over in his direction even as Potter said something to her. Unable to resist the opportunity, Draco ran his gaze deliberately up and down her body. Then he winked at her in much the same way he had only five days before, on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. He watched in delight as pink rose to her cheeks, holding her gaze with his own before she finally looked away as Potter tugged at her elbow impatiently.   
  
He leaned back in his desk, stretching his legs out lazily before him. This would still be a good year. As soon as this stupid mess with Filch was out of the way, everything would go back to normal. He would see Potter humiliated, and not only that, but he would continue having wild, passionate sex with the Golden Boy's own best friend. Oh yes, this would be quite a good year indeed.   
  
Hermione scowled to herself as she sat down across from Harry. He had apparently given up on trying to talk to her, as he was turned around in his desk talking to Ron. Just as well, she thought. She didn't mean to ignore her best friend, but the thoughts of what had happened the night before were still fresh in her mind. And then the way Malfoy had looked her over when she came in! He should be glad that neither Ron or Harry saw him wink at her, she thought to herself, ignoring the little voice in the back of her head that was telling her that she hadn't really minded being winked at, had she?   
  
She looked up as Snape came in, for a moment taking pleasure in the disappointment that crossed his face as he spotted her, Ron and Harry. They had long ago learned to avoid being late to Potions at all costs - Snape was all too eager to deduct points from Gryffindor, especially because of Harry Potter or his friends. The greasy haired professor wasted no time, running through the role call and then starting in right away on the night's lesson. Hermione sighed as she opened up her books, pushing all thoughts of her problems with Draco Malfoy out of her head. The last thing she needed was to have the threat of failing her year hanging over her head, along with everything else. 


	12. Defeat Is A Matter of Perspective

**Title: Hate's Sweet Seduction  
  
Author: Kiara  
  
Chapter 12: Defeat Is A Matter of Perspective  
  
Characters: Hermione/Draco  
  
Rating: R  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the song or the Harry Potter characters, places and situations. Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, Scholastic Books, and Warner Brothers.   
  
Author Policy: Can be found here.  
  
**

A/N: As the school year starts, Hermione and Draco find themselves thrown together by a series of events. Sparks fly..what is in store for the two enemies?  
  
I know that this chapter has been particularily long in coming, but I promise that I truly believe that the "creative juices" are once again flowing for this story. Its a bit precious to me, as it really is the first fic I wrote within the HP fandom. I will try to have a new chapter out as soon as possible, and I hope that you enjoy this one. I know it may _seem_ as if it is lacking in plot, but its not really, I promise. I chose to post it as is because I fear otherwise I will not stick to my word and may shrink in the face of the writer's block that plagued me for awhile. Anyhow, read, review and hopefully, enjoy!!  
  
As to the numbering, it is Chapter 12 on here, but Chapter 15 in the full version which can be found on my website.

**

Chapter 12 - Defeat Is A Matter of Perspective

**  
  


As the days went by, Hermione struggled to concentrate on her schoolwork, but she found it to be a difficult task indeed. Ordinarily she would have been interested in what they were covering - some of her classes were turning out to be fascinating, covering events and people in history that she admired and had intense curiousity in. 

But her heart just wasn't in it. Always in the past she had been able to turn to her schoolwork in a method of escapism when reality got too much for her. Schoolwork was easy - there were certain things required of you, and all you had to do was realize what exactly you had to do in order to meet those requirements, and you were set. There was a certain enjoyment to be found in drawing new knowledge from the old textbooks in the library, feeling the strange sensation of holding them in your hands, where they felt as if they were seeping magic right from betwen their pages and spines. Schoolwork was hardly ever a surprise, even though it was interesting and new. Always before she had turned to it as something that was a sort of solid in the precariousness of th real world, but this time was different. No matter what she did, her thoughts turned again and again to the precarious situation that she was involved in, and everywhere she looked reminders of her potential betrayal of all she held dear stared her in the face...

Professor McGonagall, beaming with pride and awarding Gryffindor twenty points for what she called "Your dignified efforts to get along with young Mr Malfoy. Your willpower and tact is something to be admired, Miss Granger! I know he's really not the most pleasant student to get along with, but you have shown great maturity and made the attempt to be polite!"

Harry, flushed from from wind and excitement after winning a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, enthusiastically shouting to her (as he was hoisted atop the shoulders of his cheering fellow Gryffindors) that she was a great friend for helping him research game maneouvers, and he was sure it was her help that had ensured that he caught the Snitch so quickly. 

Ron, jokingly teasing her about her difficulties in class and then looking right into her eyes with his own serious blue ones, telling her that she had always been there for him and that if she ever needed someone to make her laugh, she had only to ask him. 

They were so trusting, so sure in their confidence in her. They would never dream in a million years that she would even think of betraying them, that she would be allowing herself to be blackmailed by a greasy old caretaker.She had never realized before what it was like to be living a lie, and looking at their familiar, happy, trusting faces every day was slowly eating away at her spirit.

But the most heartbreaking of all was the loving letter that she got from her parents.

_Dearest Hermione:_

Your father and I hope that you are having a lovely year at Hogwarts. We know how much you were looking forward to going back and seeing your friends, Ron and Harry, and we hope that you are having lots of fun with them once again this year. 

I hope that you are enjoying your classes, that History Of Magical Events one sounds absolutely fascinating. Its interesting to see a different outlook on our own version of the history of the world and of Europe.

I do hope that you will try to keep yourself out of trouble this year, honey. I know that you love Ron and Harry, but it seems to me that they sometimes lead you into rather dangerous adventures. 

But remember this one thing darling, for I fear that we do not say it often enough - you have accomplished more than we ever imagined, and we love you dearly. We are so proud of you, dearest, and I know that you will do the same once again this year. We have even already started making plans for the Christmas holidays, but no need to be thinking of that so soon!

Don't forget to brush your teeth, and FLOSS!! Or I will tell all your friends at Hogwarts that Hermione Granger does have a fault - she hates to floss her teeth!!

Love and kisses, 

Mom and Dad

After reading the tender little note that her parents had sent her, Hermione finally snapped, bursting into tears as she read it. Luckily she was alone in her dormitory, for the tears flowed unchecked for quite a few minutes as she sat on her bed, the crisp parchment crumpled in her hand. 

Each loving word was like a stab to Hermione's heart, for she knew that her parents meant every word that was so neatly penned on the creamy stationary which she recognized as her mother's favourite. She was their only daughter and she knew that they would be proud of her no matter what, but she also knew that they were genuinely proud of all her accomplishments at Hogwarts, and the fine grades she brought home every year. 

And now, to save them, she was faced with the miserable truth that in doing so she might have to shatter that very faith and joy that they had in her. The thought going through her head was like agony to Hermione, for never, if she could avoid it, would she willingly hurt her parents - but what other choice did she have?

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Draco noticed the change in Hermione when she showed up for class that day. She looked as well put together as ever, but she couldn't hide the slight redness around her eyes, nor the dejected way she was walking - not from him, at least. 

He had always been a bit of an observer. It was easier to see through people's facades if you actually watched what they were doing, and didn't pay so much attention to what their mouths were saying. People lied all the time, as easy as breathing or eating or laughing or having sex - it was as much a part of the human psyche as anything else, and people who wanted to have honesty all the time were really just lying as well - to themselves. 

So Draco watched. He watched how people looked in class as they got rebuked, how they looked as they laughed, how they looked when they were with the people they loved and the people they hated. He watched how they moved, how their bodies and faces showed tiny signs of what the person within was really thinking. He knew that some people had two identities that they themselves weren't even aware of, and he knew that others were disgustingly shallow, wearing their feelings and secrets out for everyone to see. He had always watched Potter and his little friends, and the recent events with Granger just gave him more reason to watch her.

And now, as he regarded her from his desk at the back of the classroom, he could see the despair in her eyes, the helplessness and the fear. Everything about her was crying out for people to notice, for someone to do something, anything to rescue her from her situation. Her head was held up just as proudly, but her eyes were dark and lonely, her fair skin a bit paler than normal. Potter and Weasley didn't even seem to notice - they were in their usual disgustingly cheerful moods and really didn't seem to notice the aura of stress and sadness that hung around thier best friend. 

Draco snorted to himself as he regarded the trio intently. It was beyond him why Granger even tolerated the two bumbling Gryffindors. He knew she had the intelligence to go far if she so desired. If anything, the past years at Hogwarts had taught him exactly that, as he came in behind her in class after class. Word of how she had outsmarted the snarky reporter, Rita Skeeter, had spread, and despite himself, Draco had had to admire Granger's daring and wit. She didn't give up easily - she kept her head in dangerous situations and used her abilities to get herself out of sticky situations, and she was willing to stand up for herself and others. He hadn't forgotten the slap that she had given him - his ears had rung for a good twenty minutes after that blow.

And even though part of him hated to admit it, that only added to his attraction to her - there weren't many girls at Hogwarts who had the mental capacity as well as the guts to spar with him.Some of the Ravenclaw girls were very, very smart, but they were far too snooty to lower themselves and discuss things with a Slytherin. As for the other girls at the school, there were many who were very attractive, to be sure, but Draco had encountered problems with many of them. 

Some were too shy, blushing pink and avoiding his eyes when he happened to even glance in their direction, losing their voices when he attempted to talk to them. Others were bold, but boringly so, throwing themselves at him and making it clear that all he had to do was give a sign and they would allow him certain...liberties. He took some of them up on this, of course, but they were all so shallow that he soon grew tired of their little games. Others wanted to be chased and seduced, while others wanted to feel as though they were being forced to give themselves to Draco. The ones that weren't solely interested in kisses and dating and sex were often obsessed with things that he found exceedingly boring. And the majority of them, Draco discovered, were absorbed in themselves and their own little lives. The outside world, the world of magical politics, business and the danger of Voldemort and his Death Eaters was one far removed from them, as far as they were concerned. And it drove him mad to be around them.

Hermione, on the other hand, knew all to well about the outside world, Draco knew. He had heard of her adventures from his father, as Lucius strode up and down his study, forcing his son to listen as he vented on Voldemort's displeasure with his inability to kill Harry Potter and his little group of friends. Draco had listened with growing boredom and disgust, for it was clear, at least to him, that Voldemort was clearly not as powerful and smart as he made himself out to be. If a group of three teenagers could manage to outwit him, it should be obvious that a major overhaul of his methods was required. He wasn't sure what role Weasley played in the little trio, but he was fairly sure that Harry was the brawn and brave of the three, while Hermione was most definitely the brain. 

Despite all her experience with danger and stress, however, Draco doubted that Granger had ever actually found her family in danger. Her friends, yes. Herself, yes. The school and others in it, yes. But probably not her family. They were Muggles, and therefore removed to a certain extent from the goings on in the magical world. Hurting Muggles was ridiculously easy for anyone with magical abilities, so therefore many magicians didn't even bother with them unless they really did despise them or felt that hurting a few would be a good thing for themselves. 

Of course, his father was one of those wizards. Personally, Draco didn't see what the point was. What did killing a Muggle prove? Nothing. A first year could kill a Muggle, with the right spells or ideas, so why bother? Most of the time they did no harm. Of course they could be annoying, but if everything that was annoying in this world was killed off, Draco was sure not many things would be left. Instead of wasting the time and energy on killing them, it would be better just to play a joke or something like that. 

The more he thought about it, the more angry Draco got at the situation that he and Granger were in. He was being forced to pander to a slimy, bitter old man whose whole pathetic little life was revolving around a woman who had died 15 years, and his strange idea of justice. He couldn't even have respect for Filch, because the man wasn't threatening him with anything that he himself could do - only with the old threat of going to someone stronger and more powerful. Filch was a weakling and a coward, and the more he thought at it, the more Draco felt sick at the thought of having to do anything that Filch wanted him to. 

He gritted his teeth as he continued to watch Hermione, who had now seated herself in her usual spot between Potter and Weasley. He might not like the Gryffindor know it all, but he did have an odd sort of respect for her, and he would place bets that between the two of them, if they could actually work together, they could bring down Filch and expose him for what he was - a snivelling, pathetic little worm of a Squib.

His mind made up, Draco scribbled hastily onto a piece of paper and then lazily put up his hand. 

Professor McGonagall, who had just entered the room, eyed him impatiently over her wire rimmed glasses.

"What is it, Mr Malfoy?" she asked, her irritation at not being able to begin her lesson at once causing her to clip her words off shortly.

"I forgot something in my dorm, is it alright if I go and get it?" Draco asked, turning his most charming smile on the elderly professor. Part of him smarted at having to use such a flimsy excuse, but pride could not stand in the way right now.

Fortunately for him, it appeared that his smile was working today, for while the Professor did not look entirely pleased, she did nod curtly to indicate that he could go. Draco smiled and rose to his feet, walking quickly up the aisle while McGonagall began her lesson. As he went by Granger's desk he brushed ever so slightly against her arm, so slightly that he was sure that nobody else would notice, as their attention was diverted to their teacher. He heard her slight gasp of irritation and smiled to himself as he continued out of the classroom. Hopefully she would be too annoyed at him to notice at first the note that he had dropped onto her desk, he didn't want Potter and Weasley's attention to be drawn to it. He flashed another smile at McGonagall as he exited the room, then, pushing his hands into his pockets, began to stroll lazily down the hall towards the Slytherin Common room. 

He hoped that Granger would have the sense not to let Potter and Weasley see the note, but it was out of his hands now. Granger was the one who would have to make the decision. Either she would show him that she deserved the respect that he reluctantly had for her and take up the gauntlet that he had, in a way, thrown down by writing that note, or she would allow Filch to have his way. Either way, their futures depended on how she reacted. It was just a matter of waiting. 


	13. Draco's Idea

**Title: Hate's Sweet Seduction  
  
Author: Kiara  
  
Chapter 13: Defeat Is A Matter of Perspective  
  
Characters: Hermione/Draco  
  
Rating: R  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the song or the Harry Potter characters, places and situations. Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, Scholastic Books, and Warner Brothers.   
  
Author's Note:** I know this has been an age in coming, and I think all of you in advance who are still reading and taking an interest in Hate's Sweet Seduction, who I am sure checking to see if I have updated here, and on my website. Your interest means more to me than you will ever know. I *do* want to finish Hate's Sweet Seduction, I do. And I promise that I am making my best effort to. This is the first fic that I ever really wrote in the HP fandom, and I love it, and I want to finish it, despite the fact that I have changed over the year that has passed since I started it, and I now think that some of my own writing is slightly cliched. :P So thanks to everyone, and enjoy this latest chapter. I hope you enjoy it.   
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
Hermione gritted her teeth when Professor McGonagall paused just as she was about to begin the class and addressed Malfoy. Transfiguration was one of the few classes left that actually distracted her a teensy bit from the hell her life was turning into, the last thing she wanted was a reminder of the person who had gotten her into this mess.   
  
No sooner had the tthought gone through her head then Hermione was inwardly shaking a finger at herself. If there was one thing she despised, it was people who were not honest with themselves, and did not take responsiblity for their actions. She was not going to let herself become one of those people, even if it did mean that she would have to admit to herself that she had had just as much a part in getting herself into this situation as Draco had had. She sighed and slumped back into her desk, vaguely hearing Draco smarmily flatter McGonagall into letting him leave the room. She shook her head. How did he get away with it, she wondered. Normally any student that asked to leave so soon after class had started would get a tongue lashing about how one of the responsibilities of being a student was to bring your supplies with you, to be prepared. But of course, he was a Malfoy, she thought bitterly. And Malfoys always got their way, didn't they?  
  
She heard the sound of his footsteps approaching her desk, and leaned her head on her hand wearily, not wanting to have to look at him. She tensed slightly when she sensed him slowing down slightly as he drew near. Please, she thought. Just leave me alone, Malfoy. I don't want to have to deal with you today. To her relief he walked right on by, although he brushed against her arm as he did so. She put her arm down as she watched him leave the room, then frowned as she felt something underneath her arm that shouldn't be there.   
  
Looking down, she saw that there was a neatly folded note now sitting on the desk. For a moment she wondered where it had come from, then she remembered the way Malfoy had brushed against her arm, and realized immediately what he had been up to. She shook her head slightly, biting her lip in irritation. Looking up, she noticed Ron giving her a curious, concerned look from across the aisle. The last thing she wanted was for Ron and Harry to find her with a note from Malfoy, so she gave Ron the best smile she could manage while tucking the note into a pocket in her robes. It would have to wait until she had a moment away from her two best friends.  
  
A couple of hours later found Hermione leaning against one of the stone walls of a rather deserted hall of Hogwarts. She was on her way to Arithmancy, the one class that she still had without Ron or Harry. Looking around to make sure that no-one was approaching, she pulled the note that Malfoy had dropped on her desk out of her pocket. Her lip curled slightly as she registered the fact that it was written on one of the finest parchments, but she quickly turned her attention to reading what he had written.  
  
_Granger:  
  
Don't get your hopes up, this isn't a letter confessing my undying love, although I'm sure that your little Gryffindor heart was beating fast at the thought of it.   
  
I want to see you tonight. I don't know about you, but I'm about right sick of this situation, and I've decided that I'd rather be sorted into Hufflepuff than have to put up with a slimy Squib blackmailing me, a Malfoy. I think you're the type that has at least a bit of courage, being in Gryffindor and all, so show me what you've got, Granger.   
  
If you have some spirit like I think you do, meet me tonight in the Astronomy Tower. And no, this isn't code for a snog session. See you there.  
  
Draco Malfoy  
  
_ Hermione leaned dazedly against the wall as she took in all that was in the letter. Her spirit was smarting indignantly at some of the things that Malfoy had scrawled across the parchment in bold, masculine handwriting. He had no right to say that kind of stuff to her. The nerve of him, thinking that she was expecting a snog session in the Astronomy Tower! Everyone knew that only the first years went there, and the upper years always avoided that place like the plague. Not that she had ever had the occasion to be up there anyways, she admitted to herself.   
  
For a moment she pondered ripping up the parchment and forgetting all about it. This was dangerous stuff Malfoy was talking about. This was her parents he was talking about. But for the first time in days, she actually felt hopeful, actually felt as if there was a possibility that she wouldn't have to betray Harry to protect her parents.   
  
Even if Malfoy didn't have a good idea, it was at least worth a shot to go and hear him out. After all, there wasn't much he could do to make things worse, was there now?   
  
Her mind made up, Hermione pushed away from the wall. As she walked away towards her Arithmancy class, her step had a light, bouncy spring to it that hadn't been present in quite awhile.   
  
But he had better have a pretty good idea, she thought to herself.   
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shadowy dark hallways of Hogwarts were quiet and still as Hermione made her way stealthily along them.It wasn't after hours yet, but it was late enough that most people had no reason to be wandering around the castle. The tapping sound of her light footsteps echoed slightly, bouncing off the rough old stone of the walls around her. Hermione winced slightly when a suit of armour turned its head as she passed, the shriek of rusty metal scraping together sounding loudly in her ears. It wasn't after hours yet, so she didn't really have anything to be afraid of about being out in the halls, but she still didn't want anyone from Gryffindor to spot her. They would inevitably have questions for her about something, and she just didn't want to have to put up with them right now.   
  
At last she reached the library, and Hermione looked around carefully as she stepped inside. She spotted Malfoy right away, lounging against one of the tall cases of books. She had expected him to be watching for her, but he actually seemed to absorbed in the thick book that he held in his hands. For a moment she paused to look at him. She had seen him in this kind of pose before in their years at Hogwarts, but given all the things that they had been through, she couldn't help but look at him in a slightly different fashion.   
  
He shifted slightly, tilting the book in his hands slightly. For a moment Hermione wondered why, then noticed the lantern affixed to the dark wood above his head. He didn't like dim light, she recalled, remembering the Defense Against the Dark Arts class when they had been required to try to send simple curses at an "enemy" under the cover of darkness. Draco had complained bitterly, insisting that any wizard with half a brain would just use a simple Lumos spell, but Professor Lupin had ignored him with a slight smile.   
  
Malfoy lifted his hand, slim fingers turning one of the pages over, and Hermione glanced at the book he was holding, wondering what he was studying so intently. His usual smirk was absent, and a strand of silver-blond hair had fallen forward to cover one eye slightly. Hermione sighed. Despite all the issues going on, she had to admit that she still found him attractive. If she had ever been asked, she would have thought that physical desire would decrease if it caused any problems, but there was nothing she could do about the way her breath caught slightly in her throat when she caught glimpses of him in the halls, grey eyes smoky and intense in their frame of smooth pale skin and silver hair.   
  
Hermione took a deep breath, guiding her thoughts firmly away from the direction in which they were headed, and glanced around the quiet library. It was pretty deserted, only a few students here and there with their attention fully on their books. They wouldn't be likely to notice her, and hopefully not who she was going to be talking to, either.  
  
She made her way across to where Malfoy was standing. He looked up as she approached, and flipped the book shut, although still holding his spot with his thumb. His gaze travelled up and down her form, and she rolled her eyes. Was there ever a time when he wasn't concentrating on the physical?  
  
Then she was standing in front of him, and she tilted her head slightly, meeting his probing grey stare head on.   
  
"Well?" she asked impatiently after a few moments, when he hadn't said anything. "Did you drag me here just to stare at me, Malfoy? Or do you actually have something to say? I don't exactly enjoy standing out here in the public eye with you, I hope you realize."  
  
"Oh yes," he replied smoothly. "I understand that you prefer more...private surroundings when talking to me. Let us move to somewhere more secluded, shall we?"  
  
With that, he turned and made his way down the aisle between the tall bookcases rising to the ceiling. Hermione snapped her mouth shut in irritation. Trust Malfoy to make everything sound so sexual, she thought to herself. She had no choice but to follow him, however. He strode gracefully in front of her, leading her to a small table that was secluded between two columns at the back of the library.   
  
As they drew near the table, Draco turned and made a mocking bow in front of Hermione. "Do sit down," he drawled.   
  
Hermione arched a brow at him and then sat down. She was determined not to give Malfoy the satisfaction of seeing that he could get to her.   
  
"I have an idea," Draco said abruptly. He leaned up against the table across from her, a smirk playing across the fine lines of his mouth. "I can't believe that I didn't think of it before, actually."  
  
Hermione couldn't stop herself from leaning forward in anticipation at his words.   
  
"All we need is to find something to blackmail Filch with," Draco said slowly. His grey eyes were very intense, and in the light of the moon shining through the nearby window, the fine lashes fringing his eyes glinted silver.   
  
Hermione stared for a moment. "You can't be serious," she said. "That's what you dragged me in here for? We already know what Filch will do if we try to tell anyone, Malfoy. Maybe you aren't scared of your father, but unlike you I actually love my family!"  
  
"Would you pay attention?" Draco said impatiently. "I said we should find something to blackmail Filch with, Granger, not that we should run to Dumbledore. Filch can threaten us all he likes, but if we have proof that he's blackmailing us, and not only that, but that he was thinking about hurting either of us or Harry? Even the Death Eaters or my father wouldn't help him then. They don't have any time for stupid people who get caught."  
  
Hermione, who had been listening with a growing sense of enthusiasm as Draco spoke, stared at him for a moment, then stood up and crossed over to the window.  
  
A few clouds were scudding their way across the surface of the moon, but the pale silvery light streaming down from it was still strong enough to wash over the still campus of Hogwarts, setting everything in contrasts of shadow and light. Hermione leaned her head against the cool surface of the window, and drew a breath in. She wanted to believe that this plan could work, she really did. But what if something went wrong? What if Filch didn't slip up...?  
  
A hand lightly touching her shoulder brought her out of her thoughts with a start, and she turned. Draco was standing right behind her, and she looked up into his face warily. Instead of censure or scorn, his face was oddly free of any expression. His eyes seemed to flicker slightly as he took in her tense expression, but before she could work out what it was, his eyes were shuttered once again.   
  
"We just have to catch him, Hermione," Draco said quietly. "He'll slip up eventually, I know he will. He's only a Squib, there's no way he can match wits with us."  
  
"I want to believe that, I really do," Hermione said miserably. "But what if this is the one thing he does right? He hates Harry so much..."  
  
"When people hate, they don't think clearly," Draco's voice was firm, and Hermione looked at him in surprise. He caught her expression, and smirked slightly. "I think you'd agree that I know what I'm talking about?"  
  
Hermione nodded, staring at him. There was something about the way he was acting...something she couldn't put her finger on. He was saying all the things that she associated with Draco Malfoy, but she couldn't help thinking that there was something off about his whole demeanour. All the right words were there, but...it was like there was nothing really backing it up. All show and no feeling, she thought.   
  
She shook her head to clear it when she realized that he was still waiting for her response, and nodded her head.   
  
"I suppose," she replied tiredly. "So what do you think we should do?"  
  
"Well," Draco said reluctantly. "We'll have to wait for now. We don't have any reason to contact him - and he won't expect us to. If we say anything to him, he'll only get suspicious."   
  
"He probably can't think of anything," Hermione muttered.   
  
Draco laughed suddenly, and she glanced at him warily, but there was only genuine sardonic amusement in his eyes. She paused to watch him for a moment. Draco had never really laughed in her presence, not in real amusement, anyway. He had laughed at she or Ron or Harry many times, and at many other students, and she had heard him laughing when he was over at the Slytherin table, sometimes. But she had never really seen him laugh like this, with his lips curled up in a smile that held no traces of mockery, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement.   
  
Their eyes caught and held as Draco stopped laughing. The smile remained behind to curl up the corner of his mouth slightly, but Hermione could see his eyes go serious again as they met hers, and then the shutters slammed down again abruptly.   
  
"Alright then?" he said suddenly. "How long have we been here?" he asked, indicating her watch with a nod of his head.   
  
Hermione glanced down and saw, much to her relief, that they had only been in the library for a few minutes.   
  
"Not long", she answered. "I doubt anybody will have missed us."  
  
"Maybe not you, Granger," Draco sniffed haughtily. "But I am sure that someone has noticed my absence."  
  
"Oh yes, how could I think otherwise?" Hermione rolled her eyes sarcastically, shaking her head. Then she sighed. "I hope this plan of yours works, Malfoy..."  
  
She bit her bottom lip, chewing it slightly, then stopped when she realized she was showing her distress despite all her best intentions not to. Then Hermione felt a long, slender finger slide beneath her chin, and her head was tilted up so she was looking into Draco's eyes once again.   
  
"It will," he said firmly. "I know it will. Filch will mess up. For one, he's up against me - a Malfoy! But," Draco continued on when Hermione raised her eyebrow slightly. "He also has the smartest girl in Hogwarts up against him too. But don't let it go to your head that I said that, Granger."  
  
For a moment Hermione tried to gauge how she should respond, but failed to find a clear idea, so she just smiled. "Thanks," she said quietly. "I know its bruising to your pride to say that."  
  
"It is," Draco replied slowly, "But I don't like avoiding the truth, either."  
  
With those words, he suddenly bent and brushed his lips lightly across Hermione's, so quickly that later she wondered if she might have imagined it. Then he was gone, black robe fluttering behind him as he walked quickly down the aisle, pale white hair standing out like a beacon in the darkness.   
  
**Author's Note:** Well, there's chapter 13!! Next chapter: Filch finally approaches Hermione and Draco, and we see how the two decide to handle him - and how they handle having to work together for the same goal for the first time!! 


	14. Hidden Depths

Title – Hate's Sweet Seduction  
  
Chapter 17 – Hidden Depths  
  
Characters: Draco/Hermione  
  
Rating: R  
  
_Author's Note: No copyright infringement on the works of JK Rowling or the world of Harry Potter is intended in this fanfiction.   
  
This chapter has been awhile in coming – but I'm rather proud of it. I'm working with the characters and getting to a more indepth view of them, and I wrote it all in about three days, as well. :D Maybe if we keep our fingers crossed, things will continue this way.  
  
Thanks once again to all of you who have read and reviewed and supported me – you have no idea how much those random IM's and emails mean to me. :D Hope you like this latest installment.   
  
~ Kiara _   
  
The next morning Hermione was awakened by the sound of Lavendar and Parvati chattering away happily. Blinking sleepily, she raised her head off her pillow, spotting the two girls across the room, clustered together in front of the large silver mirror standing that stood in a corner. She heard Lavendar tell Parvati that she was going to try a new makeup spell for the day, and shook her head groggily. Oh, she did use spells herself, on occasion, when she really wanted to look nice for the day – but she still didn't quite understand the other girls' obsession with fussing over their appearances. Hermione was glad for the distraction, however – if the girls were wrapped up in their own reflections, they wouldn't be pestering her about why she had been acting so oddly lately.  
  
She _knew_ that she had been acting oddly lately – but still, the questions she was badgered with every morning were just a nuisance when she couldn't confide in anybody what exactly was bothering her. Hermione sighed and rolled over. There was a time when she would have used these extra few minutes at the start of the day as an opportunity to get more studying in, but she hadn't done that at all this year. A frown creased her forehead as she thought over how she had acted since the year began.  
  
It wasn't that she didn't think learning was important – she still wanted to do well, still knew that she had to do well if she wanted to be successful – or safe – in the wizarding world. But that goal had taken a back seat over the last two weeks, at the very time of year when she was normally fresh and excited to learn all she could. Up until last night, that had been because she was confused and stressed over the threat to her parents – but now, with Draco's new plan, there was a shred of hope that hadn't been there before.  
  
In the past, such a shred of hope would have helped her to turn her attention back to her studies right away. Hermione was still pretty sure that she would find herself able to concentrate later on the day. But for now she found her thoughts wandering to the night before, and the way that Draco had been behaving. She still wasn't sure what to think of it. There had been a...depth to Draco, something hidden beneath the surface that she had never noticed before. The way he had been acting and the things he had said - they hadn't really matched up, and it left her wondering who the real Draco was. Had he changed since this whole mess had started? Or had she merely been blind to the fact that there was, indeed a person beyond the snobby arrogance and cruelty that he had always shown to the world - to her, and Harry and Ron?  
  
Hermione shook her head, sitting up in bed. There wasn't any use in pondering on it now, she thought. The only thing that mattered was that he had actually come up with an idea - she didn't know how they were possibly going to use that idea, but the point was that it was there. A glimmer of hope...something that would allow her to maybe, just maybe, concentrate on her studies again before Harry or Ron or somebody else really got worried over how she had been behaving the last little while. The last thing she wanted, or needed, was to find herself being dragged off to Madam Pomfrey because her friends thought that she was acting oddly.   
  
With those thoughts going through her head, Hermione swung her feet over the edge of the bed. For the first time in a long while - since the beginning of the year, really - she was ready to face the day.  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
In another part of the castle, Draco too, was lying in bed, listening to the sounds of his roommates getting ready for the day. Hermione, however, had come out on the better end of the stick, because Lavendar and Parvati's fussing noises were nothing in comparison to the sounds of Crabbe and Goyle fighting over the bathroom. As usual, they had over indulged themselves at supper the night before, and when Draco had come back from meeting Hermione, he had found his two dimwitted followers gorging themselves on Sugared Sun Pops. "Enjoy the sweet orangey taste and warm yourself from the inside out!!", the bag had proclaimed. Draco had tried to warn them about the possible side affects from the little treats that were delicious but fiery, but as usual, they had just stared at him stupidly and then continued on shoveling the candy down their throats. It appeared that they were now paying for their gluttony.  
  
Goyle won the fight for possession of the bathroom by conjuring a metal pot out of thin air and allowing it to fall with a dull clunk onto Crabbe's thick skull. Draco raised an eyebrow in surprise - he hadn't know that Goyle possessed that much magical talent - and then hastily swung his feet over the side of the bed as he realized that Goyle had vanished into the bathroom. He really didn't want to start his day off by listening to his roommate struggle with an unhappy stomach. The thick wooden door closed behind him, cutting off the sound of Goyle letting out a heartfelt groan, and Draco breathed a sigh of relief that he had made it out of hearing range of any sounds that might escape the bathroom.   
  
Half an hour later found him strolling into the Great Hall for breakfast. It was a rare occasion that he ever actually ate anything so early in the morning, at home he was usually allowed the luxury of sleeping in. He had long ago realized, however, that rising so early had it's advantages - at least when you were living in a communal environment such as Hogwarts. Morning was when people were still relaxed - sleepy and not on their guard. It was the perfect time to take stock of how people were behaving, and decide how to proceed for the rest of the day.   
  
A quick glance showed him that Granger, Potter and Weasley had taken up their normal spots at the centre of the Gryffindor table. Something made him take a second look, however, and for a few moments Draco still wasn't sure what had prompted him to give any of the Gryffindors more than a fleeting glance. Then his gaze fell upon Granger's face, and he realized what he had noticed - that for the first time in weeks, Hermione actually looked more her normal self. She was ignoring most of the students who were chattering around her, although she was chattering animatedly with Potter and Weasley. A thick book lay open beside her on the table, and Hermione was glancing at it in-between bites of toast and exchanges with her friends.   
  
Draco grinned despite himself. It was good to see Hermione back to her old self, he thought. Abruptly he shook his head in frustration. His thoughts had been swinging that way more and more often, lately. Referring to Granger as Hermione, noticing and approving of the way she behaved, watching her more than usual during class – all odd little mental changes that he wasn't sure he liked at all. His father had taught him at an early age that to be successful, you had to keep yourself distant from the people around you. Referring to someone by first name, for example, indicated a level of respect and intimacy that was really only appropriate with family, close friends or better yet, very helpful business partners. The fact that his way of thinking about Granger had changed now, after five years of things always being the same, was disturbing to Draco's peace of mind.   
  
He didn't want to think of Granger as a friend, not even as a willing or helpful ally - he just wanted to stop Filch from blackmailing him and shaming the Malfoy honour - and rid himself of this annoying thorn in his side that had been plaguing him ever since that night he had allowed himself to be swayed by Granger's physical charms. Draco was sure that Filch would contact either Granger or himself soon, and when the old caretaker did, they would be one more step closer to bringing him down.   
  
The only regret that Draco had was that he would give up a chance to hurt Potter - and even that regret was very slight.   
  
-------------------------------------------  
  
Two days later, at supper, the summons came.   
  
Hermione was finishing up her supper when the two school owls came fluttering into the Great Hall. One went into a steep dive, spiraling down towards the Gryffindor table, the other banked and circled slowly down towards the Slytherin table, at the other side of the Hall. Hermione grimaced when she realized that the owl headed towards the Gryffindor table was no doubt coming to her, but breathed a sigh of relief that Harry and Ron, along with most of her friends in Gryffindor, had already left the table.   
  
This time the scroll was small, with nothing on it that might warrant any curiousity. Hermione was relieved when she saw that the few students who had looked up to see who the owl had gone to were turning back to their meals. She slid her fingernail underneath the small dab of grey wax that sealed the scroll shut and unrolled it carefully, making sure to hold it close to her body and out of the view of prying eyes.   
  
The scroll had one short sentence scrawled upon it's surface - _Come to my office after dusk_ - but it was more than enough to tell Hermione that Filch had at last deigned to contact them. Which meant that he had finally come up with a plan of attack against Harry.   
  
She raised her head and looked across the room, where her gaze was met by a pair of grey eyes. Draco was holding a scroll similar to hers in his slim fingers, and there was no fear or hesitation on his face - just fierce determination. Hermione nodded in reply. A saying that she had heard many times in the Muggle world crossed her mind, and she smiled to herself. Bring it on, Filch, she thought. Bring it on. The second this thought went through her head, however, she felt very foolish, and despite herself a giggle escaped her lips. Some of the students still sitting at the Gryffindor table looked at her oddly, and Hermione was glad to leave her breakfast and escape from the Hall.   
  
The day seemed to pass ever so slowly, but for the first time since the beginning of school, really, Hermione could concentrate on her classes - and even enjoy learning again. Harry and Ron looked surprised when she scolded them for talking during one of Professor Binns' lectures, but the surprise quickly faded into two identical grins.  
  
"Looks like someone is back to normal," Harry said to her at the end of class, as they stood in the hall outside the classroom. His green eyes sparkled at her happily from behind his glasses.   
  
Hermione smiled back at him wistfully. It felt so good to see him smiling at her like that, to return that smile and not feel as though she was pouring salt in a wound she had stabbed into his back.  
  
"I'm not so sure that this is a good thing," Ron groaned. "Next thing you know, she'll be dragging us off to the library to study all day like she did last year."  
  
Hermione glanced at him, her chest contracting just a little bit, but though the words sounded a bit harsh, Ron's grin was just as wide as Harry's. He wrinkled his nose at her impudently and Hermione laughed despite herself.   
  
"Well," she said slowly, "I'm sure you both have been neglecting your studies, and I really should spend this week in the library..."  
  
She let her voice trail off slowly, and then giggled when she saw the looks of dismay the two of them couldn't stop from spreading across their faces. Linking her arms through theirs, she smirked at them.   
  
"If you could see your faces," she laughed. "Come on - let's go have lunch."  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Meanwhile, in another section of Hogwarts, Draco stood before the ornately carved cherry wood desk that was nestled into the corner beside his bed. Reaching out, he ran his hand along the side of the desk. Only someone who looked very closely and probably knew what they were looking for, would spot the almost invisible line that outlined the secret drawer that he had had installed into the desk. Crabbe and Goyle weren't smart enough to even think that there might be a hidden drawer, let alone look for it - but he did live in Slytherin house, and gave credit to the other members of his house for being the sneaky, conniving people that they were.   
  
None of them would be able to open the spell he had placed on that drawer, however. It was keyed to Malfoy blood and the Malfoy name - only someone with both could open the spell successfully. A whispered word had a small drop of blood welling to the surface on his index finger, which Draco ran along the top edge of the drawer. It glowed silver for a moment, and then the drawer slid open with barely a whisper of a sound.   
  
For a moment, Draco stood still, gazing down at the contents of the drawer. There were certain benefits to being the son of Voldemort's favourite Death Eater. Even the Dark Lord needed to spy on his enemies, and Lucius was quite often in charge of the spy missions. Objects reeking with dark magic flowed in and out of the Malfoy Manor like water, and it was easy for Draco to get his hands on a few of the lower level spells. At first he had stolen them, using his Malfoy blood combined with pure wits and boldness to get him past the spells protecting his father's secret study. He hadn't been surprised the night Lucius had caught him, and his father had laughed and patted him proudly on the shoulder, Draco had felt a fierce welling of satisfaction in knowing that he hadn't made a mistake in assuming that Lucius wouldn't punish his son for exhibiting talents Voldemort cultivated in his Death Eaters.  
  
From that night on, he had had pretty much free access to the Dark Magic technology that came to his father. He had made good use of more than a few of the objects and spells that were geared to \help a Death Eater gather and review information about the enemy, and now was the time to use them again. He just cursed the fact that he hadn't thought to turn to them earlier to get rid of Filch.  
  
He went through the drawer methodically, turning over and examining the items within carefully. He doubted Filch would be expecting either Granger or him to put up a fight, but that didn't mean that revealing the old caretaker's plan wouldn't require cautious, deliberate planning and a proper tool. Hogwarts was set up to protect it's students and staff, and prior experience over the past five years had taught him that Dumbledore was more than vigilant in his duties as Headmaster - and that included keeping spy technology from making it's way inside the wall of Hogwarts. Very few citizens of the magical world had the magical power or ability to design any spell or object that could breach those defenses, but Draco, as Lucius Malfoy's son, had access to the spells and objects that those wizards did produce.   
  
His impatience growing, Draco continued to search through the drawer. Time was passing, and he didn't want to take too long. The last he had seen them, Crabbe and Goyle had been stuffing their faces at the lunch table, but he knew that even for those two, there was only a certain amount they could eat. He was more than capable of erasing any memory of the drawer from their minds, but he didn't want to risk the slight chance that they might be accompanied by other members of his house, who he knew would more than likely have protected themselves from such spells.   
  
Then, below a small book that had the ability to record in indelible ink anything that was said within 50 feet of it, Draco spotted it. He reached down and scooped the object up. Most people probably wouldn't even give it a second glance – it looked like nothing more than a small silver marble. As it rested on his palm, however, the marble began to shiver and shimmer, reacting with his body. Then it rippled and began a cycle of change, forming and reforming into every day objects that people carried with them. A small pendant, a slim bracelet, an inconspicuous hair pin, a shiny pair of cufflinks, a tie pin. It was perfect, Draco thought. He tilted his head to the side, studying the metal as it expanded itself into a pretty silver watch. A touch of his fingertip halted its movement, and a moment later when he spoke, it solidified. Draco smiled and tucked the object into his pocket. Yes, he thought, it was perfect.  
  
--------------------------------------------  
  
It was more difficult than Draco had expected to find Granger alone. From what he could tell, Potter and Weasley had noticed the change in their friend, and seemed to be scrambling to make up lost time. From lunch time until dinner, they stuck to her side, laughing and talking as they made their way through the halls from class to class. Even worse, the rest of the Gryffindors gravitated to the trio like moths to a bright flame, and Granger was surrounded by a large group of them for most of the day. But finally, at dinner, he spotted Granger alone, making her way out of the Hall. A quick glance at the Gryffindor table showed him that Potter and Weasley were still talking animatedly to the other members of their Quidditch Team, and Draco knew that this was his chance.  
  
He caught up with Hermione a few feet outside the Hall. She heard his footsteps approaching from behind, and turned to face him.  
  
"I thought it might be you," she said without surprise, and then turned and kept walking.  
  
"It's been difficult to find you alone today," he said, catching up to her with a few easy strides.   
  
"I've been spending some time with my friends," Hermione replied. Draco heard the slight edge to her voice, and glanced at her, surprised. She caught the look, and raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm sure you don't understand the concept, Draco," she said dryly, "But I have been avoiding them for the last couple of weeks, because of the ...stress I was under."  
  
Hearing her call him Draco instead of Malfoy made him pause. Then he shook his head, annoyed that such a small thing would throw him off. That wasn't supposed to happen, and it wasn't supposed to matter, either. It was another one of the odd turns that had taken place since the beginning of the year, since he had seen her again, and he didn't like it at all, especially since he didn't understand it.   
  
"Whatever, Granger," he muttered, and then, shaking off the strange feelings clinging to him, he reached into his pocket. "Here, these are for you."  
  
---------------------------------------------  
  
For a moment Hermione stared in surprise at what Draco was holding in his hand, then she raised her eyes to look at him, confused and a bit shocked.   
  
"Earrings?" she asked. "Why are you giving me earrings, Malfoy?"  
  
Unconsciously she slipped back into addressing him as she had used to, before they had formed their odd partnership. She thought that she saw something flicker in his eyes for a moment, but then it was gone, leaving her staring at the Draco Malfoy she was familiar with - the arrogant, unfeeling and impatient Slytherin.   
  
"They're spelled," he answered. When she just stared at him, he sighed and went on. "When you put them on, they'll react to your body heat and record anything that's said around you. Wear them when we go to meet Filch, and by the end of the night we'll have all the proof we need. Only you can activate them afterwards to repeat the information, so they're safe even if they get stolen."  
  
Hermione stared at him for a moment longer, then dropped her gaze to the earrings once again. They were simple, but pretty - delicate silver hoops with tiny blue studs dangling from them. She actually had a similar pair in her small jewellry chest upstairs in the Gryffindor house, and for a moment she wondered if Draco had designed them like that on purpose. Then she chided herself for being foolish. Draco had probably never even once glanced at her jewelry, let alone noticed and remembered what a pair of her earrings looked like.   
  
"Where did you get these?" she asked quietly. She knew the moment the words escaped her lips it was a foolish question, but she held firm, meeting his steely grey stare without blinking.   
  
"Careful, Granger," he said mockingly. "Do you really want to know about the shady side of things?"   
  
"If I'm going to be the one wearing them, I think I at least deserve to know what I'm getting into," Hermione snapped.  
  
For a moment they stared at each other, then Draco smirked. "Being Lucius Malfoy's son does have it's advantages," he replied. "Spy technology like this comes in and out of our home all the time. It's been easy to get my hands on it – and my father makes it even easier, giving me his approval.  
  
Hermione fingered the earrings, turning them over between her fingers. "Do they have spies in here, Draco?" she asked quietly.  
  
"Perhaps," Draco said, after a short pause. "I doubt it, though. Voldemort doesn't trust any of the students to carry out a spy mission on Dumbledore without fouling it up, and it would be extremely difficult to get any adult in past the defenses after that mishap with Moodie."  
  
Hermione glanced at Draco, surprised that he had heard about what had really happened with Professor Moodie two years ago. He caught the look and must have seen her surprise, as he said sardonically, "Oh come on, Granger - you don't really think that my father, out of all the Death Eaters, wouldn't have heard about who was really teaching at Hogwarts that year?"  
  
Hermione felt a flush rise to her cheeks. Of course, she realized. Crouch's failure to seize Harry after he had escaped from Voldemort at the old graveyard would have been a blow to Voldemort and his supporters. For a moment she wondered just how much influence Draco's father had upon him. He had never shown any sign of wavering from the path that he surely must be following - a path towards the dark cloak of a Death Eater. And yet, she pondered...and yet he was apparently going to work with her to defeat Filch, despite the fact that she was both Mudblood, Gryffindor and Harry Potter's best friend. It seemed that there was much more to Draco Malfoy than what lay upon the surface - and idea that she knew Harry, Ron and herself had never considered in the past.  
  
"Potter and Weasley will be leaving the Hall soon," Draco said, and the note of impatience in his voice drew Hermione's attention. "I think you would be hard pressed to explain what you are doing out here with me, when you're no doubt supposed to be heading towards the Library."  
  
"Actually," Hermione said coolly, "I wasn't on my way to the library. It's the beginning of the year, and I don't really have any need to study – not when all the Professors are reviewing material they covered last year for students who didn't pay attention last year."  
  
Draco raised his eyebrows at the testiness in her voice. "My apologies, Granger," he said. "So where are you headed, then?"  
  
"To get changed," Hermione answered. "Harry and Ron want me to come and watch Quidditch practice tonight, so that I can review how the team is doing."  
  
"You," Draco said incredulously. "You are going to analyze Gryffindor's Quidditch team - when you spend most of your time with your nose in a book?"  
  
"Yes," Hermione answered. "Books like this one."  
  
With that she flipped open one of the books she was carrying, and shoved it towards him. Draco looked down with a sneer, but then studied the page closely. A picture filled the page of the book that she had opened to, and as expected, it was filled with tiny moving figures. Hermione saw the realization cross his face when he recognized them as Quidditch Players. There were two teams represented, both gliding through the air in intricate formations often used in the game. They didn't hold his attention for long, however, and he looked up at her again, impatience clear in his eyes.   
  
Hermione looked back down at the book, and Draco followed her gaze.   
  
"Show me the Wronski Feint," she said.   
  
One of the players - a Seeker - broke away from the rest of his team, diving at breakneck speed towards the ground. The Seeker from the opposite team followed quickly. For a moment both players were only tiny blurs streaking through the air. Then, as the two rapidly approached the ground, one player, the one who had broke away into the dive, pulled up abruptly to glide away. Both Hermione and Draco winced as the other player strained frantically to pull his broom up, but failed. The tiny broom splintered as it plowed into the ground, and the player was sent flying. The other Seeker, triumphant, flew leisurely off across the mini Quidditch pitch, free to search for the Snitch.   
  
The players still flying went back into their pattern of formations, and Hermione snapped the book shut.   
  
"There are many books like this in the library," she said. "You don't need to be a player in order to understand and judge how a Quidditch team is performing."  
  
In the depths of Draco's unfathomable grey eyes something flickered, and then he spoke.  
  
"You always find some way to throw me off," he said.  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. "What?" she asked.  
  
"I underestimate you," Draco said. There was a slight edge of bitterness in his voice. "I never really realized it before now. I've always done it, too – thought that you couldn't do something, and then been surprised when you managed it after all."  
  
Hermione stared, not quite sure what to make of what he had just said. She had certainly never heard him speak like this before, and wasn't quite sure that Draco wouldn't find himself regretting being so frank later.   
  
"You're wondering why I'm saying this," Draco said suddenly. Hermione glanced at him, but there was no trace of emotion on his face.  
  
"Yes," Hermione confessed. "You have to admit that it's not much like you."  
  
"Like me?" Draco gave a short, humourless laugh. "You don't know anything about me, except what I want you to think."   
  
Hermione barely had time to absorb what he had just said, let alone reply, before Draco was turning away. He began to walk back towards the Hall, his long legged strides covering the ground quickly.  
  
"Wear those earrings tonight if you want our plan to work," he called over his shoulder. "I'll see you there."  
  



	15. Plots Revealed

Title: Hate's Sweet Seduction

Chapter 15 – Plots Revealed

Pairing: Draco/Hermione

Rating: R

Author's Note: No copyright infringement is intended with this fanfiction. JKR and Warner Bros. hold the rights to the Harry Potter franchise. I am just a lowly fanfic writer.

I know this has been a long time in coming, and I apologize for that. All I can say is that I hope that this chapter and the ones that I'm working on at the moment are worth the wait.

Kiara

A couple of hours later found Hermione standing in front of the large mirror in the room that she shared with Lavender and Parvati. Her hands fluttered nervously from her hair down to her blouse, plucking at a thread before carefully smoothing down the fabric. At last she sighed and let her hands drop to hang limply at her sides. She was as presentable as she was going to get, considering that she had just spent the last twenty minutes going over every inch of her outfit. Not to mention the simple fact that she didn't much care about how she looked - it was the outcome of the meeting that was hovering in the back of her mind.

Abruptly Hermione winced, a sudden tang of copper in her mouth and a sharp stab of pain telling her that she had just bitten through her lip. She squeezed her eyes shut, a wave of weariness sweeping over her. She just wanted this to be over.... She shook her head slowly as she opened her eyes, and then paused as a sudden glimmer caught her attention. One of the earrings Draco had given to her earlier was catching the light, standing out brightly against her hair. Raising a hand, she touched one of them gently, and then sighed. The earrings and the person who had given them to her were another problem in themselves.

Logically, she could actually work out exactly why Draco - Malfoy - had given the earrings to her. They were perfect. Filch wouldn't give them a second glance, while he might be wary of a notebook, or any other such thing that she could possibly carry with her to keep track of what he would say. They weren't that easily lost, not with the spell that she had used to fix them in place, and since they had been geared to her voice, even if they were lost she was still the only one who could use what information they held.

That still didn't change the fact that something niggled at her every time she looked at them, or turned her head and felt the way they brushed lightly across the sensitive skin of her neck. There was the way they resembled a pair of earrings she already had, for example, and the fact that really, if you paid attention to that sort of thing, they were quite simply gorgeous. Already she had gotten two compliments since putting them on after meeting Malfoy earlier. Those two things were what kept insinuating themselves to the forefront of her mind, and no matter what she did, Hermione just couldn't get them to align with what she already knew and assumed about Draco Malfoy. The Draco Malfoy persona that she had been building in her head since she had first laid eyes on him in first year did not pay attention to such small details... would not pay attention to those details when it came to her, a mudblood.

A sudden vibration at her wrist startled her from her ponderings, and after a brief moment of confusion, she sighed. The alarm on her wizarding watch was going off, to let her know that she had just twenty minutes or so to get to Filch's office to meet both him and Malfoy. A gentle touch to the surface of the watch turned the alarm off, and after one last look in the mirror, Hermione gathered herself together, squared her shoulders and then headed off towards the stairs leading out of the girls' dorm room.

It was very easy to get sick of quiet, darkened corridors, she thought as she made her way towards Filch's office a few minutes later. She felt as though she had spent rather too much time in them lately. It wasn't as if the halls were particularly interesting, either. Oh, the portraits along the wall were somewhat interesting, as she hadn't seen some of them before, but many of the frames were empty, their occupants just out of sight beyond the borders or perhaps off wandering around the castle.

At any rate, the corridors were quiet, dark and damp, and Hermione glanced behind her as she walked. It had taken some doing to get away from Ron and Harry, who she had run into going through the common room. She had told them that she was going to the library, but to her dismay, her two friends had offered to come with her.

"We haven't really talked to you in ages, Hermione", Harry had said to her, as they sat on one of the overstuffed sofas.

"It's our fault as much as yours," Ron had said generously. "But you were acting so oddly – ignoring us, really! Anyway, I need some help with my Potions homework; Snape's being absolutely horrid with this latest assignment. How am I supposed to know what adding a Flobberworm to a Levitation potion does? They don't do anything important when they're alive; I doubt they do anything when they're dead, either."

For a minute Hermione had been tempted to do it – to stay and enjoy the night with Harry and Ron, like she had all the other years at Hogwarts. She didn't want to go off and meet Filch and Malfoy in some dingy office; she wanted to spend her time with her friends. Most of the Gryffindor students had still been awake and in the Common Room, clustered together here and there in laughing, chattering groups. A small fire had been burning in the hearth; the scent of whatever it was the house elves used when they were cleaning filled the air, and everything seemed bright and cheerful, very different from what she was preparing to go off to.

Nevertheless, deep down inside she knew she had to go. Despite her fears and hesitation, everything she always looked to inside herself told her she had to – and so when Colin Creevey and Neville Longbottom had distracted Ron and Harry by coming over to ask a question about the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend, Hermione had slipped away.

At last she came to the door to Filch's office. It was standing ajar, and after knocking hesitantly but receiving no reply, Hermione stepped just inside the door. If Harry had been with her, he would have been able to tell her that the place hadn't changed much since he had been in there in second year. The office was still dark and dreary, Filch's prized collection of manacles and chains hanging against the wall above his desk.

The row of filing cabinets against the wall drew her attention, and Hermione stepped towards them, curious. Each drawer in them was meticulously labeled in alphabetical order, with here and there one drawer being devoted to a single student name. She grinned when she spotted a drawer just for Fred and George. The two had finished at Hogwarts the year before, but it was nice to see a reminder of their antics.

"Don't worry," a drawling voice said from behind her. "I doubt there's a single scrap of parchment with your name on it, Granger."

Hermione gasped and spun around. Draco was leaning up against the doorframe, looking at her sardonically.

"I doubt you've ever even been down here before," he continued. "Am I right?"

"No, I haven't been in here," Hermione answered stiffly. "I don't know why anyone would ever want to come here, either. It's absolutely horrid! No windows or anything!"

Draco straightened and stepped forward into the room. Grit crunched beneath his feet as he moved, and his face took on an expression of disgust.

"For one thing, we're down in the dungeons, you know," he pointed out, his voice silky smooth but rubbing a raw spot on Hermione's nerves. "It's rather difficult to build windows when you're underground."

Her back stiffened, but Hermione still managed a retort. "Oh, stop being such a prat," she said, giving him an icy glare. "It's common knowledge that in the Ministry there aren't any real windows, but there are still spells to make it look like there are. There's no reason Filch couldn't have had that done in here, except he's probably too proud to have anyone know that he's not really a wizard at all."

For a moment they just regarded each other, Hermione tense and quivering, Draco standing comfortably just inside the door.

"Very good, Granger," he allowed at last, breaking the silence. "I should have expected that you would know that."

Hermione blinked at the reply, taken off guard by how different it was from the usual snark she had been expecting. For a moment the words that Draco had spoken to her earlier rang in her ears, and she was about to open her mouth to ask him about them when from outside the door came the sound of approaching footsteps. The reason why they were there suddenly struck home again, and she swallowed, her mouth gone dry and her pulse pounding headily in her ears.

Draco strode towards her quickly and she took an automatic step backward, but he didn't touch her, merely murmured, "Just remember our plan, Hermione," as he brushed by her. Then he was behind Filch's desk, pulling out the chair and seating himself in it before he kicked his feet up, placing them on the desk with a satisfied smirk. Hermione's eyes widened and she gestured frantically at him, but suddenly it was too late, the door was swinging inwards and Filch was there, glowering at them both from beneath his mane of shaggy, greasy hair.

Hermione lifted a hand nervously to touch one of the earrings but quickly turned the motion into a brush at her hair, sweeping a strand out of her face as she gazed warily at the bitter old man. Her thoughts were racing, wondering why Draco was goading the man so, wondering if the earrings were working properly even though Draco had i told /i her that they would begin to work as soon as she put them on.

"I don't think Lucius Malfoy is much of a one for hearing that his son has been treating other people's belongings in such a fashion," Filch said at last, his raspy voice holding an undeniable note of condescension as he stared at Draco. "What do you think, Mr. Malfoy?"

Hermione could see the muscles in Draco's arms tensing with his anger, and she bit her lip as she waited to see if he would lose his temper, wincing as she hit the tender spot where she had bitten it earlier. He somehow managed to control himself, though, instead just raising one mocking eyebrow before he swung his feet off the desk - but still making no move to give up the actual seat itself. Hermione winced again inwardly as she waited for Filch's reaction, but in some way, she had to admire Draco's nerve.

"Fine, have it your way, Mr. Malfoy," Filch finally drawled. "If sitting behind that desk makes you feel like you have some vestige of power in this situation, by all means, be my guest." He paused for a moment, and then his lips curved up in a horrid caricature of a grin. "It still won't change the fact - you don't have any power in this situation."

"Can you spare us the ego strutting?" Draco interrupted him, unshaken by Filch's remarks, or at least seeming so. "It's taken you long enough to come up with something, so now that you've finally called us here, go ahead and tell us."

"Patience is a virtue," Filch said calmly. Hermione just barely refrained from rolling her eyes, unable to believe the garbage that was spouting from the man's mouth. Platitudes weren't her favourite things at the best of times, let alone now, coming from a more than slightly mad old caretaker.

"As I have most richly discovered," the man continued, his grin growing wider. "I've managed to get into touch with an old friend of mine, you see. Someone else I went to school with, who seemed to be quite delighted when I told him that I had in my hands a way to give him and his master just what they've always wanted - Harry Potter."

Hermione's breath caught in the back of her throat and her back stiffened slightly as she gazed at Filch. All thoughts of Draco, the plan and what they were going to do after this meeting fled from her mind while she struggled to grapple with what Filch was telling them. She had expected many things out of this - some foolhardy plan to humiliate Harry, perhaps, or some attempt to get him expelled from Hogwarts. This, however, was sounding like it was much more than that – like it was something that would put Harry in very real danger. This was exactly the opposite of what Draco had said they could expect.

Perhaps she made a noise of some sort, or maybe Draco could tell by her expression how she was reacting to Filch's announcement, because she was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of him snorting indelicately. She glanced at him and saw him giving her a glare out of the corner of his eye before he turned his attention back to Filch.

"Do you really expect us to believe that?" he drawled slowly, condescension dripping from every word. "When you consider all the people that have tried to bring Potter down, and deliver him to Voldemort" - Hermione was pleased to see that Filch flinched slightly at the sound of the name -" You expect us to even contemplate for a moment the thought that you might accomplish it?"

Her logic firmly back in place, and spurred on by the truth in Draco's words, Hermione spoke up as well. "He's right, Filch," she said, her voice icy despite the tremble she fought to keep from it. "Harry's faced down bigger and smarter opponents than you, and none of them have been able to touch him. There's no way this will work."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong," Filch replied, his voice silky smooth. He didn't look even the slightest bit shaken by what they had said, and Hermione had to stop herself from taking a step backwards when he moved toward her.

"Other people have failed, yes," Filch continued, as he reached her side. He stared at her for a moment, and this time Hermione did take a small step backwards, repelled by the look in his murky eyes. Filch chuckled and reached out to stroke one dirty finger down the side of her cheek, laughing aloud when she shuddered in distaste. "Other people have failed, but other people haven't had you, have they, Miss Granger? You're Potter's best friend - the smart one, the one he always trusts. You're going to be the reason why I succeed."

Filch laughed again and then moved away. Hermione closed her eyes, disgust still running through her from where he had touched her.

"Poor Peter Pettigrew, they used to say," Filch said musingly, and Hermione opened her eyes to see him standing in the centre of the room, stroking his chin in what seemed to be a thoughtful pose. "Poor, poor Peter Pettigrew, betrayed by one of his closest friends. But Peter was just like me - betrayed by the ones he thought cared for him the most. He was quite pleased to hear from me, you know. And now both of us will win - he'll have pleased his master and get the respect that he's always wanted, and I'll finally get my revenge."

Hermione shook her head slowly, caught between disgust, fear and scorn. She had no idea quite how Wormtail had convinced himself that he had been betrayed by his friends - perhaps that was something that Filch was just telling himself. When she really thought about it, she wasn't surprised that the two of them had come to some sort of an agreement - despite all that he had done to ensure Voldemort's survival, Hermione knew from what she had heard from Harry that Pettigrew was still regarded as almost the lowest of the low among Voldemort's lackeys. Yet somehow, he usually managed to find allies...

Again, an overwhelming wave of weariness washed over Hermione. When would Harry be free from this, she thought to herself. A stroke of luck, a whim of fate, and he had been destined to spend a life being hunted and hated by people he didn't even know. Repeatedly they had stood against that onslaught, but it always continued.

Yet with the weariness came a certain bitterness, born of five previous years of standing at Harry's side, watching him fight against everything that was arrayed against him, watching him somehow accept the role he had been placed into. She had seen his own anger and confusion about the lot he had been handed, and yet he somehow shouldered that lot despite it all. If he could face down all of that, was she really going to let yet another bitter enemy from a past that wasn't even Harry's try to hurt him?

--------------

Across the room, still seated behind the desk, Draco glanced over and caught the look on Granger's face as she lifted her chin stubbornly, a sudden flash of determination plainly visible on her face. A sudden tension that he hadn't even been aware of up until that point suddenly relaxed, and he sighed inwardly. Despite everything he had heard about her – the bitter tirades his father would launch into about Potter almost always included her as well – he had been afraid, somehow, that she would lose her nerve. Her expression now seemed to counter that, and when she glanced over at him and their eyes met for a brief moment, he had no doubt left at all. Images from encounters over the last five years suddenly flashed before his eyes, and the corner of Draco's mouth quirked up in a small smirk. Filch really had no idea what he was getting himself into.

"Alright, Filch," he drawled, taking pleasure in propping one of his feet up against the desk again, ignoring the anger that was evident in the older man's eyes. "So you've talked to Voldemort's favourite little pet rat. What does that have to do with us, other than the fact that you two are both obviously pathetically incapable of escaping the past?"

Filch's lip curled up in a silent snarl, but he didn't rise to Draco's bait. "Things will be easy enough to accomplish from this point on," he said, leaning back against the wall behind him as Mrs. Norris wound silently around his ankles. "Now that I've got in touch with Peter again, all that remains to be done is getting Potter somewhere he can be caught from. That is where you two come in."

There was another longer pause, and this time the room was entirely silent. Draco remained silent, just wanting to hear what it was that Filch had planned. Across the room from him, Hermione stood still and quiet, her gaze fixed on the old caretaker.

"You, Miss Granger," Filch said at last, spinning around and pointing a long finger at her. "You are the first part of the plan. Three days from now, on Sunday, there is a Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Both Potter and Mr. Malfoy, here, will be playing. It will be your job to distract Potter somehow, after the game. Get him to go with you toward the forest. There will be a barrier erected just at the edge, where the grounds and the forest meet. Dumbledore has spells and spies all over the rest of the place, but the Forest is still out of his reach, thanks to the centaurs and the Forest itself. Once you pass that barrier, nobody back at the school will be able to see you."

Turning, Filch fixed his gaze on Draco. "Now you, Mr. Malfoy, will have the task of escaping from your team-mates. You will make your way to the edge of the forest, following behind Granger and Potter. Once you are right at the edge, you will make yourselves known to them. It shouldn't be too hard to proceed from there – a word or two and you should find yourselves in the middle of an argument. At that time, I will appear, and while Potter is distracted between myself, you and Granger, Peter and whoever he brings with him will come out from the forest and seize him."

"How do we know you'll leave us alone after this," Draco interrupted, staring coldly at Filch. "What is there to stop Pettigrew or one of his cronies from blackmailing Granger or I into doing this sort of thing again?"

"Peter doesn't know that anyone else is working with me," Filch said with a shrug. "I told him that I would get Potter near the forest after the Quidditch game – he doesn't know how I was planning on doing it. As far as he is concerned, your presence will just be a coincidence, and I instructed him to leave any of the other students alone. In all likelihood this will actually work in your favour – a quick Obliviate, and neither of you will even remember what it is that you've done."

------------------

Hermione shuddered inwardly as she considered that situation for a moment – betraying Harry, and then not even knowing what she had done. She'd go through the same grief and worry as everyone else, and not even know that she had caused it... She couldn't decide which would be worse, living out a lie while Harry suffered for it, or knowing exactly what it was she had done. That could have been her future... Now, because of Draco's plan, there was some hope again.

"So that's it, then." Draco's voice brought Hermione out of her thoughts, and she focused her attention. "Granger gets Potter there, I follow and argue with him a bit, and then after you show up Pettigrew and the others sweep out of the forest and carry him off to the big bad Dark Lord?"

"Mock it if you will," Filch said coolly. "In reality, the very simplicity of the plan is what will make it work. Being with Granger will lull Potter, you being there will distract him, and when I show up, the combination of the three will make him unaware that anything is amiss until it is too late."

He had a point, Hermione thought bleakly to herself. Without the tools that Draco had access to through his father, they wouldn't have had a way to prove what Filch was doing, and that would have meant that she would have gone along with it, worried about her parents. She supposed that somehow, she could have found a way around it, to ensure Harry's safety... but right now, it didn't bear much thinking about.

"I presume that I still have cooperation from the both of you," Filch spoke again. "If not, let me assure you that there are two owls waiting to be sent. One will go to a Death Eater, who will be wary, but not too wary to look in to a letter that tells him the whereabouts of the Muggle parents of Harry Potter's best friends. The other will go to Lucius Malfoy, telling him just what his son has been doing, and not only that, just what his mother has been up to in her spare time."

At that, Hermione blinked, and sent a curious glance in Draco's direction. She wasn't sure, but she thought he looked a bit paler than normal, as though what Filch had said had struck particularly close to home.

"We hardly have much choice in the matter," she said icily, breaking the silence and tearing Filch's gaze away from Draco. "Is it a trait of the unintelligent, I wonder, to go over and over points that are already conspicuously obvious?"

Filch scowled at her, but Hermione just lifted her chin slightly, not about to back down at this stage. "See to it that you both do your parts," he said at last. "And keep in mind that I'll be watching you both particularly closely from now until Sunday. Nothing is to go wrong; I hope you understand me quite clearly on that point. Now, get out of my office."

In a sort of daze, Hermione made her way to the door, and when she came back to her senses she realized that she was standing outside of Filch's office, with Draco standing beside her.

"He's going to have us watched," Draco mused, and Hermione stared at him blankly for a moment before she realized what he was referring to. "Come on," he added, and grabbed her arm, tugging her down the hall. After a few turns they reached a darkened corridor, and then ducked into a small alcove just off of it. "How will he manage that, I wonder?" Draco continued, his forehead wrinkling in a frown. "He's just a Squib."

"He must have something that helps him do his job, though," Hermione said, her logic quickly taking over. "How else does he get around so fast, or know where Mrs. Norris is? I bet Dumbledore's given him certain powers, so that he can keep up."

"It will make things more difficult, that's for sure," Draco replied grimly. "If he's watching us, he's bound to notice any move either of us makes to go and approach Dumbledore. We'll have to figure out another way to get our information to him – and quickly, too."

Hermione frowned for a moment, leaning against the wall and tapping her fingernails nervously against it. "Harry," she said suddenly.

"What?" Draco scowled at her. "Have you gone daft? Filch'll know for sure if you say anything to Potter. Not only that, he'd probably waste his time getting into a strop with you, or worse, try to save the whole situation himself and end up being killed in the bargain. There's no way we're telling Potter."

"I didn't mean that we should tell him, you prat," Hermione told him impatiently. "I was thinking of something else – something that Harry has."

She paused nervously for a moment, debating on whether or not she should actually tell Malfoy what she was thinking. Draco, however, did not have the patience to just stand there while she thought.

"Well?" he prompted, staring at her. "Are you going to tell me, or am I just to assume that you've gone into a swoon, thinking about the wonders of the Boy Who Lived?"

"I will tell you, but only if you're done belittling him as per usual," Hermione said, giving him a withering stare. "Merlin knows you seem to prefer doing that than actually listening to me."

She waited for a moment to see what Draco had to say to that, but he didn't speak, actually seeming a bit amused as he raised one eyebrow at her and made a gesture to indicate that she should continue.

"Harry has an Invisibility Cloak," she explained quietly, after glancing out of the alcove nervously. "And a magical map, as well, that will show us if we are in danger of running in to Filch. All I need to do is get a hold of them, and we can use them tomorrow or Saturday to make sure that we can get to Dumbledore's office."

Draco frowned for a moment, chewing his lip consideringly while Hermione gazed at him impatiently. "That would work," he said at last. "Filch won't be expecting an Invisibility Cloak – they're hard to get a hold of, and students never have them. It figures that Potter would."

"I don't see why it wouldn't work," Hermione said, tired of what she saw as Draco trying to avoid admitting that anything Harry had might possibly work to their advantage. "We've used it before. If you weren't so critical of Harry all the time, you'd at least see that he hasn't gotten this far by being stupid or not knowing what he was doing."

Draco shrugged his shoulders sardonically, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I have to go," she said, glancing down at her watch. "I told Ron and Harry that I would be at the library, and as it is they actually wanted to come with me – if I'm not careful they'll go looking for me. Listen; meet me after classes tomorrow inside the library, all right? Filch won't think anything of it, if anything he'll just think we're going to shag again, and we can get back in there easily enough, later, since we'll have the cloak."

Then she was moving away down the hall, turning the tables for once and leaving Draco without a chance to reply, staring at her retreating back.

Hermione struggled to hold back her glee as she rounded the corner, the image of having left Draco standing behind her without even a chance to reply stuck firmly in her mind. There was a certain amount of pleasure to be had from besting him without even using any snark, she thought to herself, a small smile curving her lips. It was almost interesting, working with him on this sort of thing, seeing if she could surprise him as much as he surprised her on occasion.

She turned another corner, and then stopped dead in her tracks as a sudden noise came to her ears. She waited for a moment, and chills went down her spine when she heard it again – a soft scrape coming from behind her, around the corner she had just turned. Carefully drawing her wand out of her pocket, she warily turned around, moving toward the corner as the soft sound came again.

"Who's there?" she called out softly. There was no reply but the sound came again, this time closer, and Hermione tightened her grip on her wand instinctively. She didn't see why Filch would have followed her and Draco so soon after meeting with them, but if he had, if he had heard their conversation... The sound came again, and then someone rounded the corner and came to a stop in front of Hermione, who had her wand up and pointing directly at them before she realized who it was.

"Ginny?" she said, in a slightly incredulous tone. "Ginny, what are you doing here?"

"I was meeting someone," the other girl replied quietly, moving forward. Her red hair glimmered as Hermione waved her wand, effortlessly casting the Lumos spell. "Seems to be the night for that sort of thing, don't you think?"

Hermione stared at Ginny blankly for a moment, and then slowly became distinctly aware of her heart thudding in her chest as the meaning behind the other girl's words became clear. "What do you mean, Ginny?" she said at last, her tone fixed and very careful.

"I mean that I came out to meet someone tonight," Ginny said simply, moving to lean up against the wall across from Hermione. "I was a bit worried about it, actually. Nobody knows that I'm meeting this person, and I don't want anyone to know until I'm ready for them to. I was thinking about that as I was coming back, but then I happened to glance down one of the halls as I went past it, and it seems I'm not the only one who's meeting someone without anyone else knowing."

Ginny stared at Hermione levelly, and the older girl sighed and closed her eyes as she realized that it was not going to be easy to talk her way out of this one.

"The other thing is," she heard Ginny say, her voice still quiet. "I've been worried about telling people about whom I've been meeting, but it really is nothing in comparison to what you'll have to worry about, Hermione. Tell me, does anyone know that you've been meeting Draco Malfoy on the sly?"

The breath Hermione had been holding escaped on another long sigh, and she opened her eyes to gaze at Ginny wearily. "No," she said simply. "Nobody knows, Ginny. And there's more to it than you think, I promise you."

"More to it than what I think?" Ginny's eyebrows went up, and Hermione bit down on her lip again, ignoring the pain as she realized that she had probably just aroused the other girl's curiousity more with that comment than she could have by saying almost anything else. "I'd been putting it down to the rumours that I've heard that he's absolutely fabulous in bed – but there's more to it than that? Do tell."

Caught completely off guard, Hermione gaped at Ginny for a moment, a blush rising slowly in her cheeks.

"I'll take that to mean that the rumours are true," Ginny said, amusement clear in her voice. "You might blush easily, but not that easily - not to mention you haven't even gotten angry yet, which I'm sure you would have if you weren't sleeping with him. But you still haven't answered me – what more is there to it, Hermione? I'm very curious, seeing as how shagging the person who lives to be the enemy of your best friend would be enough for most people."

Regaining her composure, Hermione shook her head irritably at Ginny. "I have my reasons," she said at last, thinking fast on how she could answer the other girl without arousing her suspicions further. "Best way to know the enemy is to get close to them, don't you think?"

A silence descended for a brief moment, and then Ginny laughed. Hermione gazed at her warily, still a bit uncertain, but the amusement she could see sparkling in the other girl's eyes seemed to be genuine enough. "That works for me," Ginny said, still giggling. "I always did wish I had your talent for finding out information, Hermione."

Hermione couldn't help laughing a bit as well, although she could feel another blush heating her cheeks. She fiercely willed it to go away, and then promptly decided that she had best resign herself to it when Ginny seized her by the arm, saying "Now, you have to tell me all about this – everyone in my year has been dying to shag him, you know," as she pulled Hermione down the corridor in the general direction of Gryffindor.

--------------

Meanwhile, behind them, there was a slight movement around the corner, and then Draco stepped out into the open, a contemplative expression on his face as he watched their figures recede down the corridor.


End file.
